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“ Mark you, it you miss the cratt, you sliall receive forty blows.” 


(p- 214) 


IN SHIP and PRISON 


A Story of Five Years in the Con- 
tinental Navy with Captain 
Samuel Tucker 



By WILLIAM PENDLETON CHIPMAN 
Drawings by ARTHUR DE BEBIAN 


THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO. 

NEW YORK AKRON. OHIO CHICAGO 




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LI8KARY of OoSiS? 

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JUN 29 1908 

Jtu,?'? /9<i^ 

OLAStji> A XXC. Nu. 

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MMkaWMa 


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IIH « » >I"»<I»|I 


Copyright, 1908 
BY 

THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO. 



MADE BY 

THE WERNER COMPANY 
AKRON, OHIO 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I I Go In Search of Captain Tucker . . 9 

II In Which I Defy the Captain ... 22 

III Left on the Brig 38 

IV A Dastardly Trick 51 

V An Unfortunate Remark 67 

VI In Which I Have My First Taste of a 

British Prison 84 

VII I Meet a New Friend 99 

VIII Our First Prize 113 

IX An Astonishing Oifer 127 

X We Capture a Frigate 146 

XI A Distinguished Passenger on Board . 166 

XII To Halifax Prison 180 

XHI On Board a British Frigate .... 194 

XIV I Rejoin the Boston 208 

XV In Which We Capture the Pole ... 223 

XVI To the Defense of Charleston . . . 237 

XVII Taken Into the British Camp . . . 251 

XVHI The Beacon House Light Expedition . 266 

XIX We Board a Cartel Ship 283 

XX Charleston is Taken 299 

XXI “The Cruise of the Nine 313 

XXH Captured by the Hind 327 

XXIII The Escape 345 


1 







ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

“Mark you, if you miss the craft, you shall 


receive forty blows ^ ’ Frontispiece 

‘ ‘ What I want is a second mate ” 82 


“Master Dunn, you are my prisoner” . . . 158 / 

He soon came upon the shore, where a boat and 

four men were evidently awaiting him . 270 



AUTHOR’S NOTE 


^ ^ Of those heroic men who were distinguished 
in the American Revolution on land or sea, the 
far greater part have been depictured by able 
pens. Monuments have been erected, biog- 
raphies have been written, and the elegant his- 
torian has adorned their memory with unfad- 
ing wreaths. * * * But there is one man 

of no mean rank in the day of struggle — a 
pioneer of our infant navy — who took more 
prizes, fought more sea fights, and gained more 
victories than, with a very few exceptions, any 
naval hero of the age.” — From Shepard’s Life 
of Captain Samuel Tucker. 

^‘He did his part, and did it nobly, while our 
navy was in an embryo state, and only con- 
sisted of a few armed sloops and schooners, and 
yet performed such essential service in supply- 
ing the destitute army of Washington.” — From 
American Almanac^ 1835. 

‘Ht is well enough to bring the body of Paul 
Jones across the ocean and bury it in American 
soil with appropriate honors. But the nation 


slioiild not forget that another man — Captain 
Samuel Tucker — lies in a neglected grave to- 
day; yet no man captured more prize ships, or 
did more to feed and clothe the army of Wash- 
ington than he.’^ — From The Herald, editorial, 
1905. 

The incidents of this book are taken largely 
from the log-book of Captain Tucker, and are 
intended to picture the stirring times in which 
he lived, and the thrilling adventures in which 
he engaged. Midshipman Arthur Dunn, one of 
Captain Tucker’s officers, is the narrator, and 
his story covers the five years during which his 
commander played no small part in naval af- 
fairs. It is hoped the narrative will arouse in 
the heart of every reader an admiration for 
the brave Captain, and rescue from oblivion 
the name of another of our Continental heroes 
— the man who did so much to keep the land 
forces of our Kevolutionary struggle supplied 
with ammunition and stores at the expense of 
the enemy. 


William P. Chipman. 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


CHAPTER I 

I GO IN SEAKCH OF CAPTAIN TUCKER 

I cannot remember the time when I did not 
love the sea, nor is that strange. I was born 
in sight of the ocean. My father, and, as for 
that matter, his father before him, was a sailor. 
My first recollections are of boats and oars, of 
vessels and ropes and sails. At fourteen I had 
made a trip to the Great Banks on a fishing 
smack and at sixteen my knowledge of the At- 
lantic coast reached from Newfoundland to 


9 


10 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Charleston. Tall for my age, strong and hardy 
from constant toil and exposure, and familiar 
with all sorts of sailing craft from a shallop 
to a chip, I counted myself an able-bodied sea- 
man. I now had one ambition — to voyage to 
foreign ports. 

Suddenly, unexpectedly, the single cable 
which bound me to the homeland was severed. 
My mother — the only parent I can remember, 
for my father was lost at sea while I was still 
a babe — died. I left her in usual health for a 
voyage to Norfolk. On my return I found her 
dead and buried. In caring for a neighbor, 
who was sick with typhus fever, she fell a vic- 
tim to the disease. A small cottage with its 
scanty furniture, a few dollars in the care of 
Squire Sabins, the village lawyer, and her 
dying message — these were my legacy. It was 
the message which changed the course of my 
life, and sent me away from my native town 
for years. It read: 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


11 


dear Boy: — 

But for you I should rejoice over what the 
doctor just told me — that I have but a few hours 
to live — for it means a reunion with your dear 
father, though a separation from you. It is but 
a change from the presence of one loved one to 
the presence of the other. Sixteen years I have 
been with you, fifteen years away from him. 
Now I go to be with him, and leave you to the 
care of Him who has promised to be with the 
fatherless. He will keep you in all your ways. 

Doubtless you know that there is no tie to 
keep you near home, and will carry out your 
long cherished wish of visiting other lands. 
You have my free consent. I was a sailor ^s 
daughter and a sailor’s wife. I believe ‘it is as 
near to heaven by sea as by land,’ and have no 
objection, as you long have known, to a sailor 
son. I only suggest that you go to Marblehead 
and find Captain Samuel Tucker. He was a 
friend of your father, and will be your friend 
and adviser. Possibly he may be willing to give 
you a berth in his own ship ; if not, he may be 
able to secure a place for you with some other 
captain as good and trustworthy as himself. 
This much I am sure he will be willing to do for 


12 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


you for your father’s sake. Never forget the 
great truths you have learned at my knee, and, 
living by them, you shall some day join your 
father and me in heaven. With my best love 
and a kiss, 

Your dying mother, 

Elizabeth Dunn.” 

Squire Sabins, who had been appointed my 
guardian, though himself averse to the sea, 
otfered no opposition to my plans, and a week 
later, with a new sailor ’s kit and as fine an outfit 
as a lad of my age ever had, I left for Marble- 
head to look up Captain Tucker — a man whom I 
had never seen, but about whom I had heard 
from childhood, for, as the sole survivor of my 
father’s wreck on the coast of France, he had 
been the one to bring the tidings of that un- 
fortunate event to my mother. I arrived at 
the village in the evening, and was left by the 
stage at Mason ’s Inn, where I passed the night. 
Early the next morning, while I waited for the 
breakfast hour, I went out on the street for a 
stroll. Of almost the first person I met, an old 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


13 


fisherman on the way to his nets, I inquired 
for the residence of the man I was seeking. 

‘‘CapPn Samuel, I ’spose you mean, seein* 
how thar ain’t but one Capt’n Tucker here,” he 
responded. ‘‘That big, gabled house, standin’ 
thar all by itself on Rowland Hill, not far from 
the bay shore, is whar he lives when to home. 
But he hain’t thar now. He sailed yisterday 
from Salem for Lisbon.” 

“You are sure of that, sir I” I asked with 
much chagrin at the thought that I had lost by 
a single day the man I was anxious to see. 

“I orter be,” he answered good-naturedly, 
“seein’ how my Bill went with him, rated as 
an able seaman for the fust time, an’ I was 
over thar to see them otf. Bill will make a 
capt’n yit, ye see if he don’t, for he’s with the 
smartest skipper that sails from these parts, 
who’s promised to do the square thing by the 
lad.” 

I was in no state of mind to dispute his asser- 
tion, or to listen further to a recital of his 
family affairs, which he seemed disposed to 


14 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


make. Thanking him for his information, 
though it had not been to my liking, I turned 
abruptly and went back to the tavern, where 
the disagreeable news I had received was con- 
firmed by the inn-keeper while I was at break- 
fast. 

I arose from the table out of sorts with my- 
self and uncertain what course I had better 
follow. I knew I could go back to my native 
town and reclaim the place I had given up on 
the coasting schooner. But I did not want to 
do that, now that I had bidden farewell to all 
my friends there with the expectation that I 
should not see them again for months, perhaps 
not for years. I could not afford to wait, with- 
out employment, until Captain Tucker re- 
turned. Could I find some other ship in the har- 
bor, or over at Salem, on which I might secure 
a berth! 

Debating this question with myself, I tramped 
about the town for several hours, visiting the 
cliffs, the beach, the wharves, the old powder 
house and Sewall fort. Occasionally I made 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


15 


inquiries about the seventy vessels of various 
kinds which I could count in the harbor, but 
while I found several opportunities to ship on 
a fisher or coaster, I did not find a single 
vacancy on a vessel bound across the ocean. 
Towards noon I reached Red Stone Cove, where 
there lay, stranded and broken in two, a long 
boat, perhaps once belonging to an East India- 
man. On the stern part of this disabled craft 
I at length sat down and soliloquized : 

‘^Evidently there ^s no chance for me here, 
and after dinner I ’ll hire a boat and row across 
to Salem, and try my luck there. Perhaps I 
shall be more fortunate. If not, I can come 
back here, and take a berth on a fisher until 
Captain Tucker comes home.” 

Little thinking the latter was the wiser 
course for me to follow by all odds, I arose to 
retrace my steps to the inn. As I did so I 
noticed that a yawl had rounded the opposite 
point, and was coming into the cove, apparently 
crossing over from Salem. It occurred to me 
that here might be a chance for me to secure 


16 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


a passage over to that town in the afternoon, 
so I waited the arrival of the boat. Soon it 
was near enough for me to see that it was 
pulled by two men in sailor garb, while a third, 
whose dress and appearance suggested he 
might be a ship’s officer, sat in the stern. In 
another moment the light craft touched the 
beach, and the last-named gentleman stepped 
ashore. As I went forward to accost him, I 
heard him say to his companions : 

Remain here, lads, until I return. I shall 
not keep you waiting long if I have good luck 
in finding the man I am after. ’ ’ 

‘‘Aye! Aye! Capt’n,” they replied. “You’ll 
find us here when you get back. ’ ’ 

Those words gave directions to the form of 
my salutation, as I reached his side. Touching 
my hat, I said : 

“I beg your pardon. Captain, but are you 
just over from Salem?” 

“Yes,” he answered, a little gruffly, I thought, 
“but what is that to you?” 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


17 


^‘Do you know of any vessel over there that 
will soon sail for Portugal T’ 

I added that last word to my query, for it 
had suddenly occurred to me that, if I could 
reach that country, I might join Captain 
Tucker over there as well as on this side of the 
ocean. 

do,’’ he admitted, “but why do you ask?” 
and for the first time he looked me carefully 
over. 

“I’d lilm to ship on her,” I cried joyfully. 
“Will you kindly tell me her name, and where 
I can find her captain?” 

“I happen to he her master,” he responded 
affably. “Ebenezer Weston, of the brig 
Young Phoenix, bound from Salem to Oporto 
within a few hours,” he added with growing 
' politeness. “Now tell me who you are and 
why you wish to go to Portugal. ’ ’ 

I promptly did so, without a single inter- 
ruption or word of comment from him until my 
story was finished. Then he remarked: 

^ ‘ Arthur Dunn, son of Captain Thomas Dunn, 


18 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


and seeking for a place with Captain Samuel 
Tucker. ThaPs all in your favor, young man. 
Now tell me what experience you have had as a 
sailor — ;what do you know of a brig and the 
handling of herP’ 

Modestly I told him, saying I hoped to be 
rated as an able seaman on the vessel which 
shipped me. 

We had been walking up the beach as we 
talked, and were now out of the hearing of the 
sailors who remained by the yawl, a fact 
Captain Weston was careful to note before he 
spoke again. 

can do better than that for you, Arthur 
Dunn,’’ he then said, “if you think you can fill 
the place. What I want is a second mate. I 
came over here to look for a young fellow 
whom I know slightly and whom I believed 
would answer for the berth. He may be here, 
and he may not. He might be willing to ship 
with me and he might not. What is more im- 
portant, you are here, and are ready to go. 
Now why can’t we strike a bargain!” 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


19 


‘ ‘ I would do my very best, sir, ’ ^ I stammered, 
hardly believing it possible the man could be 
in earnest in his proposal. 

‘‘You are rather young for the position, I 
admit,” he said more to himself than to me, 
“but you have had more experience at sea than 
the man I was after, and the stock you came 
from, as I happen to know, is excellent. Your 
father and grandfather were born sailors, and 
I believe it will prove so in your case. Anyway, 
I’m willing to take the risk, and will tell you 
what I’ll do. If you will sign for the voyage 
over and back, and not join Captain Tucker 
until he’s home again, which will be about the 
same time we heave into port. I’ll rate you at 
forty-ei^t shillings as a starter. How will 
that do?” 

“I certainly shall accept the offer, and thank 
you for it, too,” I answered heartily. “When 
and where shall I report to you?” 

He thought a moment ; then replied : ‘ ‘ There ’s 
hardly room in the yawl for you and your 
traps, and it would be something of a job to 


20 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


tote the latter down here. So you’d better go 
back to the tavern, get your dinner, and take 
the afternoon stage over to Salem. Let the 
driver leave you at Long Wliarf. I’ll have a 
boat there for you. This completes my crew, 
and we’ll sail on the morning tide.” 

‘H’ll be on hand, sir,” I promised, and turned 
towards the village. Before I reached the bank 
above the beach, however, he called out: 

‘^Hey there. Master Dunn, I’m usually pretty 
close mouthed about my affairs, especially here 
in this town, so you needn’t say anything to 
anyone about whom you have shipped with. 
Just get your luggage and come over to the 
brig. ’ ’ 

‘‘Very well, sir,” I answered, thinking little 
then about the strangeness of this request. 

A rapid walk of ten minutes took me back 
to the tavern, where I got dinner, settled my 
bill and clambered onto the top of the huge 
coach that soon rattled up to the door. 

“Wlien shall we see you again!” asked the 
courteous inn-keeper, following me out to the 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


21 


stage, with an evident desire to learn more of 
me and my visit to the town than he had yet 
been able to ascertain. 

‘ ‘ When I come back with Captain Tucker, ’ ^ I 
retorted, little knowing how trne were my 
words. ‘‘I’ve decided to go over the ocean 
after him.” 

“Your business with him must be important, 
then,” he muttered as the great vehicle drove 
away. 

Something more than an hour later I was on 
Long Wliarf where I found Captain Weston 
had been as good as his word. The two men 
who had been with him at Marblehead were 
waiting foK me with the yawl, and, loading in 
my kit, they took me swiftly out to as trim a 
brig as I had ever seen. Mounting to her deck 
I was warmly greeted by the man whom I, at 
that moment, counted my best friend, but who 
was to prove my greatest enemy before that 
voyage was over. 


CHAPTER II 


IN WHICH I DEFY THE CAPTAIN 

‘^Here you are safe on board the brig, Mas- 
ter Dunn, and in good season, Captain Wes- 
ton said as he grasped my hand. ‘‘I’m glad 
of it, for I’ve changed my mind since I left 
you, and we’ll heave anchor and be off tonight. 
First of all, however, let me introduce you to 
my first mate. Master Thomas Marshall, this 
is our second officer. Master Arthur Dunn.” 

As he spoke, a young fellow, who looked 
scarcely older than myself, though I learned 
later that he was just over twenty-one, stepped 
forward and offered me his hand. 


22 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


23 


glad to see you, Master Dunn, ’ ^ he said 
in a hearty way that quite won my heart, ^ ‘ and 
I welcome you on board the Young Phoenix/^ 
Possibly my face revealed my surprise at 
finding the executive officer of the vessel but a 
stripling, for as I took Master Marshall’s hand, 
the Captain remarked: ^‘Yes, it’s the Young 
Phoenix — young in name and young in age, for 
she is only three years old, and what is more 
fitting than that she should have young mates? 
Ha ! ha ! ha !” and he laughed quite boisterously 
over his attempt at pleasantry. 

For myself, I thought his laughter unseemly, 
and for some reason, though I could not then 
have told why, it grated on my ears. But the 
irritation I ^perienced was forgotten or over- 
looked the next moment, for, turning to two 
sailors who stood near. Captain Weston directed 
them to take my luggage down into the cabin. 
Then, speaking to me, he added : 

‘^And come right along yourself. Master 
Dunn. I’ll show you your quarters, and have 
you sign the ship’s articles, and explain to you 


24 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


about the wat 'hes. Then we’ll be ready to get 
under weigh. ’ ’ 

In five minutes these preliminaries were at- 
tended to, in ten minutes more the anchor was 
hoisted, and, with all sails set, the brig was 
standing out of the harbor. The breeze was a 
good one, the vessel proved herself a good 
sailer, and before sundown we were out of sight 
of land. 

I do not imagine there was ever a more com- 
placent lad than myself when I took the second 
watch at eight bells, and found myself for the 
time in sole command of the vessel. The night 
was a beautiful one; the stars showed bright 
and clear in the deep vault over my head; the 
wind — a west one — bore us rapidly along lour 
course; the brig responded to every touch of 
the wheel like a thing of life ; and my own feel- 
ings were in keeping with my surroundings. 

I walked the quarter-deck with a slow and 
dignified tread, occasionally pausing to direct 
some member of my watch to tauten a rope, or 
ease up a sail, or to keep a sharp lookout for- 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


25 


ward. Perhaps these commands were not al- 
ways necessary, but I issued them partly to 
impress my men with the feeling that I, though 
young, was equal to the place I had been called 
to fill, and partly that I might test the working 
of the vessel and familiarize myself with her 
peculiarities. For, though you may not know 
it, each ship has her own whims and moods, and 
only he who is thoroughly acquainted with 
them can have full mastery over her. 

So the minutes rolled away, each new dis- 
covery about the brig increasing my compla- 
cency and giving shape to my thoughts. Here 
it was less than forty hours since I had left 
home, and, though I had not found Captain 
Tucker, I was in a better berth than he would 
have been likely to give or find for me, thanks 
to my fortunate meeting with Captain Weston. 
My quarters on the vessel were all I could ask ; 
the meal I had eaten at dusk had revealed the 
fact that the captain was a good provider; the 
first officer. Master Marshall, appeared to be a 
good sort of a fellow and one I could easily get 


26 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


along with. On the whole, I was better off than 
I had even dared to hope or expect. 

So I mused, and among my musings was one 
that took the form of a resolve: Captain Wes- 
ton should have no occasion to regret the con- 
fidence he had put in me. I would do all that 
was possible to win his approbation, until I had 
been advanced to the position of first officer. 
From that it would be an easy step to the com- 
mand of some vessel — and when that place was 
reached I could go back to my native village 
with pride and elation. Anyway, no more fore- 
castle for me. I was in the cabin, and there I 
would stay until I was Captain Dunn. 

I make mention of these thoughts here, for I 
was soon to learn the lesson that there is a vast 
difference between an idle fancy and the stern 
reality. In fact, my complacency received a 
rude shock almost immediately. Walking along 
to Bill Howard, the oldest and most experienced 
sailor on board the brig, who was taking his 
trick at the wheel, I asked: 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


27 


‘‘How does she handle, Bill? Does she mind 
her helm readily!’’ 

“I’ve seed them that does better,” he 
growled. 

“I don’t know about that. Bill,” I retorted. 
“I call this a pretty fine craft.” 

“She’s well ’nongh, I ’spose,” he admitted 
with some show of reluctance. “At the same 
time Bill Howard wishes he wasn’t on board of 
her. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Why, what ’s the trouble ! ” I persisted. ‘ It 
can’t be they don’t give yon enough to eat. I 
saw the supper sent down to you tonight. You 
don’t often get better on shipboard.” 

“I wants no better, if it only continues,” he 
replied. 

“Wliat makes you think it won’t. Bill!” I 
questioned, thinking he might have been along 
with Captain Weston on a previous voyage and 
had some revelation to make. I had known of 
skippers who always fed their crews well until 
they got them out to sea. It might be this that 
would prove to be the weak point of the man 


28 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


with whom I had shipped so unceremoniously. 
But his reply was a question. 

beg your pardon, sir, but have you sailed 
on the brig afore P’ 

‘‘No, Bill, I haven’t. Have you?” 

“Never, sir! and I can’t find anyone from 
fust mate to cabin-boy that has.” 

He paused a moment, as though giving me 
time to take in the assertion ; then he continued : 

“You’s young, sir, but I can see you are a 
sailor. Now let me ax you a question. Does 
it look well for a Capt’n when goin’ out of his 
home port to have to ship all new men? Bill 
Howard says no, an’ he’d never shipped on the 
brig had he knowed it. Mark my word, sir, I’m 
no croaker, but I’ll bet ye a month’s pay we’ll 
both wish we were ashore ’fore we make port 
again. An’ ’twon’t be the craft; sir; ’twill be 
the ol’ man.” 

“Oh! I guess it won’t turn out as bad as that. 
Bill,” I replied with a laugh, and walked away. 

But the conceit had been knocked out of me 
by his words. I was not so sure that I had been 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


29 


wise to jump so quickly at Captain Weston’s 
flattering oiler. I was not so certain I wished 
to remain on the brig longer than for that voy- 
age. And I built no more air castles during 
that watch. 

A few minutes before the time for the 
watches to change Master Marshall came on 
deck. Surprised at his early appearance, I 
went forward to meet him. As I reached his 
side, dark as it was, I could readily detect that 
he was troubled about something. 

‘‘Master Dunn,” he began immediately, 
“may I ask if you are well acquainted with 
Captain Weston? Do you know anything about 
his habits V’ 

“No, sir,” I answered with a sinking heart. 
“I never saw him or heard of him until about 
three hours before I put my foot on the brig. ’ ’ 

“Then I’m not the only fool on board,” he 
remarked quickly, and I thought he said it with 
considerable satisfaction. “My acquaintance 
with him isn’t twenty hours old.” 


30 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


He was silent a moment, and then as though 
some explanation was necessary went on : 

‘H belong in Eastport, Maine. My last berth 
was as second mate on a brig in the West India 
trade. We were wrecked a week ago, and a 
Salem craft picked us up and brought us in 
there. I’d hardly stepped ashore when I met 
Captain Weston. He called me by name, said 
he knew of me, and, being in want of a first 
officer, would give me the place if I could 
arrange to sail at once. Like yourself, I’m 
ambitious to get ahead; it seemed too good a 
chance to lose, and, as he was willing to advance 
enough for my outfit, I promptly accepted the 
offer. In two or three hours I made my pur- 
chases, mailed a letter home, telling of my good 
luck, and came aboard. As soon as I was 
settled in the cabin, the Captain went over to 
Marblehead after you. ’ ’ 

‘‘Not after me,” I interrupted, and then I 
explained how I came to be shipped on the ves- 
sel as second mate. 

“It looks bad,” he remarked when I was 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


31 


done. ^‘Captains don’t usually pick up their 
officers that way. But doubtless some of the 
crew are old hands, and we can learn from them 
about the Captain.” 

‘‘No,” I declared, and then I told him of the 
conversation I had just held with Bill Howard. 

“It’s worse than I thought!” he ejaculated. 
“New officers and new men throughout!” 

“Why, what have you discovered?” I in- 
quired, coming at last to the question which I 
had for some time been eager to ask. 

“You’ll see for yourself when you go below,” 
he replied, “though I don’t mind telling you. 
He’s down there drinking like a fish, and is 
already so he can’t tell whether he’s afloat or 
ashore. ’ ’ 

“Well, I’m glad it’s no worse than that,” I 
said with a sigh of relief, “for I’m sure you 
and I can manage the brig.” 

“It isn’t that that troubles me,” he re- 
sponded quickly. “But you see he’s captain 
whether drunk or sober, and you can never tell 
what freak a drunken man will take. No, Mas- 


32 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


ter Dunn, we are in for it, and must stand to- 
gether so far as we can for our own protection 
and for the protection of the crew.^’ 

‘‘You may count on me,’’ I promised, and as 
the watches were now changing I started for 
the cabin. 

Once there, I found Master Marshall had not 
overstated the situation. The room was filled 
with the odor of rum, and a glass and bottle, 
both empty, sat upon the table, while the skip- 
per was lying on the floor, now entirely over- 
come with the liquor he had drunk; and there 
he still lay four hours later when I again went 
on deck. 

It was not, in fact, until the next day at noon 
that he came on deck, and I never knew a 
greater change in the appearance of any person 
within the same length of time than there was 
in him. From the neatly dressed, affable gen- 
tleman who had received me as I stepped on 
board the brig, he had now become the ill-kept, 
blear-eyed, irascible sot. Ignoring Master Mar- 
shall and myself, though both of us were near 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


33 


the wheel, he walked rapidly down to the galley, 
where the cook was issuing food to the men. 
Confronting that personage jnst as he came 
through the door of the caboose, his hands full 
of dishes, he angrily demanded: 

‘‘Who told yon to give all that grub to those 
land-lnbbers ? ^ ’ 

“You did, sir,’^ stammered the man in great 
alarm. “Indeed, sir, I haven’t given them a 
single thing more than you told me.” 

“Take that for your impudence,” the irate 
officer cried, and with his huge fist he struck the 
fellow a blow which sent him sprawling down 
the deck, while the dishes he carried rolled to 
the opposite rail. 

“Now, sir,” he shouted as the unfortunate 
cook regained his feet, “hear me! You are to 
give the men just one-half what you’ve been 
doing until further orders, and mark ! if I catch 
you adding a single pound to that. I’ll tie you 
to the mast and give you twenty lashes with 
the cat. ’ ’ 

“I’ll do just as you say, sir,” the man meekly 


34 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


promised, as he began to pick up his stray uten- 
sils. 

That was the beginning of the brutal inci- 
dents we were called to witness or experience 
through the remainder of our voyage. I have 
no heart to write them out in detail here. But 
let me say I have followed the sea for well nigh 
sixty years now, sailing on all kinds of vessels 
and with all sorts of masters, but I never saw 
the equal of Captain Weston for meanness or 
brutality. The men were starved and beaten 
and worked nearly to death. I am sure there 
would have been more than one fatality but for 
the courage and tact of Master Marshall. When 
the captain was in his drunken stupors, he 
would issue extra food to the men on his own 
responsibility, and so make up to them in a 
measure that from which they were unjustly de- 
prived. In more than one instance, when the 
commander in some ugly mood had ordered a 
sailor to the lash, he would contrive to put off 
the punishment until later, and, on the skip- 
per ^s returning once more to his cups, the man 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


35 


was allowed to go. But there were scores of 
times when he could do nothing, for the Captain 
liked to do the lashing with his own hands. 

For a wonder I escaped any direct altercation 
with the Captain until we had sighted the Bayona 
islands off the coast of Spain. It was early 
morning, the sky was overcast, and a heavy 
wind was blowing from the north-east. I was 
in charge of the deck and had sent Bill Howard 
up the mainmast to belay a rope which had 
broken loose. He completed his task, and 
started on his return to the deck. Just then a 
sudden gust of wind took otf his tarpaulin, and 
sent it scaling toward the cabin hatch. It 
reached there as the Captain poked his head out 
for a squint at the weather, and struck him in 
the face with a force that must have stung him 
severely. With an oath he leaped to the deck, 
and, discovering Bill bareheaded, he turned 
upon him with the fury of a maniac. 

‘‘You low-lived cur,’’ he hissed. “I’ll teach 
you better than to throw your hat at me ! Here, 


36 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


Master Dunn, tie the villain to the mast, and 
I ’ll give him forty blows with the cat. ’ ’ 

beg yonr pardon, sir, it was the wind that 
took otf Bill ’s hat, ’ ’ I started to explain. 

‘‘So yon will excuse his devilish trick, hey?” 
he shouted even more furiously. “Well, let me 
tell you he shall be whipped, and what is more, 
you shall give him the blows yourself. Here, 
men, tie that fellow to the mast there.” 

The last words were addressed to two sailors 
who stood near him and they sullenly obeyed. 

“Bring me the cat,” the angry officer com- 
manded when poor Bill, with his back stripped 
bare, had been bound to the stick. 

One of the sailors soon appeared with the 
ugly lash, and the skipper, turning to me, re- 
marked with a Satanic grin : 

“Here, take this. Master Dunn, and for every 
blow you give that does not draw blood on yon- 
der fellow’s back, you yourself shall receive 
two.” 

My blood boiled within me, but I answered 
him calmly enough : 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


37 


Never, sir! You may lash me, kill me, as 
you please, but Bill is innocent and not a blow 
will I strike.’’ 

There was an instant hush, as the sailors, 
aghast at my temerity, held their breath, and 
the wind itself lulled as though anxious to know 
the outcome of my defiance. Then with the 
roar of a maddened bull. Captain Weston leaped 
toward me. 


CHAPTEE III 

LEFT ON THE BKIG 

Clenching his fist as he came, he struck at me 
with all his tremendous strength, and, had he 
hit me, I am certain I should have been killed, 
but I was on the alert, and jumped to one side 
in time to avoid the blow. At the same instant 
the wind came again with great violence, the 
brig suddenly lurched, and my assailant pitched 
headlong against the starboard rail, striking 
his head with a force that knocked him sense- 
less. The fact that he was attacking me did 
not prevent my hastening to his assistance. 
But quick as I was, another was before me. It 


38 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


39 


was the first mate. He had come on deck in 
time to witness the skipper’s fall, and was al- 
ready kneeling over the unconscious man when 
I reached his side. Tearing open the Captain’s 
waistcoat, he placed his hand over the heart, 
announcing a moment later : 

^‘He’s only stunned. Master Dunn. I’ll have 
him taken down below, and do all I can for him. 
But you’d better keep out of his way for a 
while, and he may forget the whole affair.” 
Then rising, he directed two of the sailors to 
carry him down into the cabin. ^‘Liberate 
Bill, ’ ’ he added as he turned to follow them. 

I was not slow to obey that order, and as I 
assisted the old tar in putting on his shirt and 
jacket, he said : 

‘H’m obleeged to ye, sir, for what ye’ve done, 
but I fear ye haven’t seen the last of it, an’ I’d 
rather ben flogged than got ye into trouble.” 

‘Ht’s all right. Bill,” I assured him. “Come 
what may, I shall never whip an innocent man. 
I should have done the same for any of the 

99 


crew. 


40 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


‘‘I knows it, sir, but Bill Howard won’t for- 
get yeVe done it for him, as ye’ll see,” and he 
went back to his station. 

A half-honr later Master Marshall returned 
to the deck, saying: 

‘‘He wasn’t hurt any to speak of. There’s a 
big swelling on the top of his head, and he’s a 
little dazed over what has happened. But it 
don’t prevent him from going back to his rum. 
He’s pouring it down again as if it were water, 
and in a short time will be drunker than ever. 
I only hope he’ll keep so until we are in port. 
Then you can light out for Lisbon and join 
Captain Tucker. It will be safer than to stay 
here and face his anger when he does come to 
himself. ’ ’ 

“I won’t do that unless I have to,” I 
answered stoutly. “I’m as ready to do my full 
duty by Captain Weston as ever, but I won’t 
aid him in abusing innocent men,” and I ex- 
plained how it was that Bill Howard had 
aroused the skipper’s wrath. 

“I knew it was something of the kind,” he 


IN SHIP AND PBISON 


41 


returned warmly, '‘for I was on deck in time 
to hear what you said. But you never know 
what freak a drunken man will take. He may 
forget this whole affair, as I have intimated, 
or he may hold the whole matter against you 
until he^s had his revenge. My advice is to 
leave the brig as soon as we are in port, y 

"Why cannot we appeal to the consul?” I 
questioned. "Surely he will take our word 
against that of a drunken captain.” 

"He may not give us the chance to make any 
complaint against him,” he replied, "but we’ll 
see. I only fear he will vent his anger in some 
way on you before we can make any move to 
prevent it.” 

I tried to think that he was altogether too 
apprehensive of coming trouble, though I con- 
fess I finished my watch with much heaviness 
of heart. Then, having determined to face the 
worst immediately, I went down to my quarters 
as usual for a much needed rest. No sooner 
had I entered the cabin, however, than I found 


42 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


for the present at least I had nothing to fear, 
as the captain lay in a drunken stupor. 

Throwing myself into my berth, I tossed 
about for some time, thinking over the incidents 
of the last hour or two. It seemed therefore 
as though I had scarcely closed my eyes when 
there came a call: ^‘All hands on deck!’’ 

I leaped to my feet, "an quickly to the ladder, 
noticing as I ran that iiie captain was still lying 
there in the same condition in which I had 
found him on entering the cabin, and clambered 
to the deck. A single glance told me why we 
had been called. The storm, which was brewing 
during my last watch, now raged in full force 
and the brig, under shortened sail, was stagger- 
ing along before it, while the huge waves were 
chasing her and threatening to engulf her. 

Master Marshall met me at the hatch. 

‘‘How’s the Captain?” he inquired somewhat 
anxiously. “Is he of any use to us?” 

“Not the slightest,” I replied. “He don’t 
even know that I have been into the cabin.” 

“Then, Master Dunn, we shall have to fight 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


43 


out the storm for ourselves/’ he declared. 
‘‘That is why I have called you to the deck. 
You must share the responsibility with me. 
What more would you do than I have done?” 

I ran my eye over the craft. All her topsails 
were taken in, but she still carried her main- 
sail, her foresail, and her jibs. Under these 
she dove her bow into P 3 waves. It was evi- 
dent she was too heav^ forward to ride easily 
under the gale, so I said promptly: 

“I’d take in every stitch of canvas but the 
jib and mainsail, sir, and reef those down to 
just enough to keep her steady. Then I’d ease 
her off a point or two from her course; it’ll 
keep her from diving into the seas that are 
threatening to swamp her.” 

“It’ll keep her off shore and give us more 
sea room,” he admitted, “and as neither of us 
is acquainted in here, it isn’t a bad idea;” and 
then he gave the orders necessary to put my 
suggestions into execution. 

For hours we kept on under the reefed can- 
vas, the storm scarcely changing in its violence. 


44 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


Drenched to the skin, chilled to the bone, 
hungry from long fasting, we were in poor con- 
dition to meet the night which was now fast ap- 
proaching. Since noon onr hatches had been 
lashed down, and we knew nothing of what was 
going on in the cabin. If the skipper had 
aroused sufficiently to realize we were strug- 
gling with the tempest, he gave no signs of it. 

We looked for no help from him. Still, 
assistance was to be providentially furnished 
us. 

‘ ‘ Sloop ahoy ! ’ ’ shouted the foreward lookout. 

‘‘Where awayT^ asked Master Marshall, 
hastening towards the bow. 

“Two points off our larboard, and bearing 
straight down this way, sir,’’ was the reply. 

“She’s a pilot boat, sir,” Bill Howard de- 
clared a moment later to me. “I’ve seen ’em 
too many times in here to be mistaken.” 

He was right, for within five minutes she had 
run near enough for her commander to hail us 
in English and ask if we wished him to send a 
man on board. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


45 


‘'Yes, sir,'' responded Master Marshall at the 
top of his lungs. Then he said to me in lower 
tones: “This is a Godsend, Master Dnnn, 
though I don 't see how he can put a man aboard 
of us. No boat can live in this sea." 

But the Portuguese commander was equal to 
the occasion. Working up under our lee, he 
tossed a rope to our deck, the other end of 
which had already been made fast to the waist 
of the man he was going to send over to us ; and 
no sooner did this fellow see we had caught the 
line than he plunged into the sea and swam 
vigorously for us. We speedily pulled him on 
board, well drenched but none the worse for his 
voluntary bath. He could speak enough 
English to make us understand we were only 
about thirty miles out of Oporto, into which he 
could take us, notwithstanding the darkness and 
storm. Greatly relieved. Master Marshall sur- 
rendered the command of the brig to him, and 
under his orders We were soon headed for that 
city. 

Slowly the hours wore away, and as they 


46 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


passed the wind decreased somewhat in its vio- 
lence, and the sea became less boisterous. It 
was evident the storm was abating, and new 
hope filled the hearts of all. Then when the 
pilot at length declared we were approaching 
the outer harbor of our desired haven, a cheer 
broke from the lips of the worn and weary 
sailors. Five minutes later, however, the new- 
born hope was suddenly changed to the gravest 
anxiety. 

‘‘Breakers!” called out the bowman, and the 
pilot himself ran forward at the cry. 

“It’s long reef, off harbor,” he said a 
minute later in his broken English. “Drifted 
too far south ; I soon clear them though. ’ ’ 

But he could not keep his promise. An ad- 
verse current as well as an adverse wind was 
against us, and soon he declared our only hope 
was to anchor until morning, when with a flood 
tide and daylight to guide us, we might sweep 
over the reef. So we cast over our anchor, took 
in all sail, and anxiously waited for the morn- 
ing. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


47 


But it was not an easy place for a vessel to 
ride, and before long we discovered we were 
dragging our anchor, and making straight for 
the breakers. 

‘‘Must take boats — only hope,^’ the pilot an- 
nounced. 

Before Master Marshall could issue a single 
order, however, there came a loud rap on the 
cabin hatch near which I was standing. Throw- 
ing otf the fastenings, I pushed the cover back 
and out stepped Captain Weston. 

In the darkness we could obtain little idea of 
his appearance, but his voice sounded out loud 
and clear, as he asked : 

“What’s the trouble? Where are we? Why 
have I not been called?” 

It was a rather embarrassing situation, but 
ignoring the last question, I replied: 

“We are drifting on the long reef off Oporto 
harbor, and the pilot says our only hope is to 
take to the boats.” 

“The pilot says so? Where is he? How 
came he here?” the skipper next demanded. 


48 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Master Marshall kindly, saved me from fur- 
ther reply. 

‘^Here he is, Captain Weston,’’ he said, 
bringing the Portuguese forward. “He’ll tell 
you all about our situation. ’ ’ 

Confronted by the pilot, and, apparently now 
recognizing the danger the brig was in, the cap- 
tain made no further allusions to our neglect 
of him, hut listened attentively to what the fel- 
low had to say. 

Though dumbfounded that he was now for 
the first time brought face to face with the real 
commander of the vessel, the pilot made a short 
and straight explanation of the situation, end- 
ing : 

“No time to spare, Capt’n, we soon be on 
reef.” 

Captain Weston had but to listen to under- 
stand the force of these words. Already above 
the howling of the wind could be heard the noise 
of the waves dashing on the rocks, and every 
moment the sound grew louder. 

“Clear away the boats!” he commanded. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


49 


‘^Master Marshall, yon and your watch may 
take the first one. Let the pilot go with you. 
Master Dunn, see that the second one is made 
ready for you and your men. I’ll go with you. ” 

His words were calm and dignified, and I felt 
sure that in the common danger that threatened 
us he had forgotten any animosity he might 
have felt towards me. So I sprang to my sta- 
tion, and saw that our yawl was lowered into 
the tossing sea. 

Master Marshall was first off, clearing from 
the brig’s side without mishap, and then my 
men tumbled into their waiting craft. 

Ready, sir,” I reported to the skipper, who 
still stood near the cabin as though loath to 
leave his vessel. 

‘‘All right,” he responded pleasantly, com- 
ing promptly over to the rail. “You are 
younger and sprier than I, Master Dunn, and 
so I’ll swing down first, and you may follow.” 

“Certainly, sir,” I answered, and watched 
him as he disappeared in the darkness down 
the rope. I even took hold of the line to steady 


50 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


it, for it was swaying violently with every heave 
of the boat. 

A moment later I knew he had reached the 
yawl in safety, for the cord was relieved of his 
weight, and so I swung myself over the rail to 
follow him. The next instant the rope parted 
below my feet and I was left dangling in the 
air. For a minute I knew not what to do, then 
thinking if the line had given away at the stern 
of the craft, her bow was probably still holding 
fast, I drew myself up as best I could to the 
deck, and hurried over to the other fastening. 
Swinging for the second time over the rail, I 
endeavored to lower myself down to the yawl, 
but as I did so I became aware of two things: 
this rope was also loose, and someone else as 
well as myself was clinging to it. Before I had 
recovered from my astonishment at these dis- 
coveries, the voice of Bill Howard cried out just 
below me : 

“Go back, sir! For God’s sake, go back, sir! 
The Capt ’n has cut you loose ! ’ ’ 


CHAPTER IV 

A DASTAEDLY TKICK 

It was neither the time nor the place to ques- 
tion this astounding announcement, so I drew 
myself back to the deck of the brig as best I 
could, and the next moment Bill Howard landed 
beside me. 

^‘What is it you say, BillT’ I now demanded. 
‘‘The Captain cut me loose? Then how come 
you here? Tell me all about it,’^ for though I 
knew Captain Weston was angry with me, I 
could hardly believe he would vent his spite in 
an act which imperiled my life. 

“It’s jest as I tell ye. Master Dunn,” the old 


61 


52 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


sailor began. ^‘I was a slidin^ down the bow 
line when I heerd him tell ye to let him go 
fust. Now ’tisn’t nateral for a Capt’n to leave 
a stranded ship ’fore his men, an’ I smelt mice 
’t once. So when my feet touched the boat I 
stayed right thar, holdin’ on to the rope. His 
feet hadn’t more than struck the stern when 
I felt that end of the craft swingin’ off, an’ 
I knew what he was up to, an’ ’spected to hear 
ye go chunk into the water. I let go the line 
an’ leaned over the side of the boat ready to 
grab ye' when ye struck. But ye didn’t come, 
an’ then I knew ye’d gone back to the deck an’ 
would come down the other rope. So I rose to 
my feet to catch hold of it agin, an’ jest then 
the Capt’n calls out: ‘We are all here, lads, 
clear away.’ Jack Slade was next to me, an’ 
bearin’ the command, he whips out his knife 
an’ cuts the line ’fore I could say a word. I 
caught it though, an’ tried to hold the boat thar 
till ye could climb down, but the waves swept 
her out from under me quicker ’n a flash, an' 
all I could do was to tell ye to go back.” 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


53 


I grasped the honest fellow ^s hand, saying 
with much emotion ; 

‘ ^ It was kind of yon, Bill, to try to thwart the 
Captain’s purpose, but yon have lost yonr only 
chance of escape by it. You’d better left me to 
my fate. ’ ’ 

‘‘Not by a long way!” he retorted emphatic- 
ally. “I told ye Bill Howard wouldn’t forget 
your kindness, an’ I’ve come back to help ye 
out of this scrape.” 

“How?” I asked incredulously. “We are 
drawing nearer the reef every moment, and 
once we strike, it will be all up with the vessel 
and with us.” 

“We hain’t goin’ on any reef tonight,” he 
persisted. “I thought it all out while holdin’ 
on to that line. Thar’s another anchor in the 
hold. We’ll get it out an’ down, an’ ’twill hold 
us till high tide. Then we’ll cut the cables an’ 
go straight over the reef into the harbor. A 
vessel did it here much as ten years ago. I 
heerd ’em tell ’bout it when I was here on the 
Sally Ann from New Bedford.” 


54 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


They say a drowning man will catch at a 
straw, and I certainly was given new hope by 
my companion’s words. Together we went for- 
ward, got off the hatch, and with much difficulty - 
hoisted out the anchor, though we shipped con- 
siderable water while at the job. To bend on a 
cable and carry it astern, where we had decided 
to put it out, was an easier task. But as we 
were about to throw the iron into the sea, I sud- 
denly let go of it, crying out: 

‘‘Look quick. Bill. We are no nearer the reef 
than we were a half hour ago. I believe the 
anchor we already have out has caught and is 
holding. ’ ’ 

He glanced toward the reef, and then, letting 
go his own hold on the spare anchor, answered 
joyously : 

“Ye are right. Master Dunn, an’ we can keep 
this iron to hold us after we are over the reef. ’ ’ 

Five, ten minutes, we stood there watching, 
ready to put out the second anchor if it were 
needed. The darkness was so dense we could 
not see far away, but our ears helped where 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


55 


our eyes failed, and the sound of the dashing 
waves grew no louder. At length convinced that 
the brig was no longer drifting, we crept under 
the lee of the cabin, and waited with what 
patience we could for the flood tide. 

We had only one way of telling when it was 
safe for us to venture across the reef — as the 
water grew in depth the sound of the breakers 
lessened. When, therefore, their noise had 
practically ceased, we crawled out of our re- 
treat and went over to the stern rail. 

^‘Will it do to cut loose nowP’ I inquired, 
dunno,’’ Bill replied. ‘‘We want all the 
water under us we can get, but won’t want to 
wait till the tide slacks. How long d’ye ’spose 
we ’ve been here 1 ’ ’ 

“Four hours,” I answered, making the best 
guess I could. 

The old sailor did not question my estimate. 
“Then the tide won’t be clear for two hours 
yet, ’ ’ he responded. “ We ’d better wait a while 
longer, I reck’n.” 

We crept back to our shelter, and, in order 


56 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


to form some idea of the passing moments, I 
counted slowly to myself. My comrade evi- 
dently proposed to leave all the responsibility 
of deciding the lapse of time to me, for he said 
nothing until I announced : 

‘‘An hour has gone by. Bill.’’ 

“Then we’ll start,” he said. “If ye’ll take 
the wheel, I’ll go forward, an’ cut the cable.” 

I went aft, loosened the fastenings of the 
wheel, and stood ready to head the brig for the 
reef as soon as she was free. The next minute, 
like a race horse, she whirled to the larboard 
under a mighty gust of wind, and dashed away. 
Before I could get her bow around we were on 
the reef, and a grating sound told that her keel 
was grazing the rocks below. It was only 
momentary, however, for a huge billow caught 
her, and lifted her clear of the obstruction be- 
fore she could pound a hole in her bottom, and 
on and over the great barrier we swept un- 
harmed. 

By this time I had the craft headed for the 
harbor, and the creaking of cords and the flut- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


57 


tering of canvas forward told me that Bill, 
single handed, was trying to put sail enough on 
her to steady her to her course. He must have 
succeeded for she soon became easy and sped 
on before the wind straight for the town, the 
glimmer of whose lights I could now faintly see. 

My only fear now was that we might strike 
some sunken ledge, since I knew nothing of 
the waters before me, or run aground on some 
shallow bank. But of this fear I was soon re- 
lieved, for Bill came aft and on reaching my 
side, said: 

‘‘Let me take her, sir. I’ve been in Here 
afore, an’ reckon I can put her where she’ll ride 
easy till mo min’.” 

Gladly I gave up the wheel to him, and busied 
myself getting our remaining anchor ready to 
throw overboard when we were in a place of 
safety. Steadily the waters grew less boister- 
ous, then the wind blew less violently, and I 
knew we were getting behind the headlands 
which enclosed the harbor. The lights of the 
city also gradually became more distinct, and 


58 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


after a while we began to pass vessels which 
were out-riding the gale in safety. 

I turned to my comrade. ‘ ‘ Had we not better 
anchor soonP^ I queried. 

‘Hf you say so, sir,” he answered promptly, 

‘ ^ but I ’m sure I can take the brig a mile nearer 
town. ’ ’ 

I made no objection to this, and ten or fifteen 
minutes later he handed the wheel over to me, 
saying : 

^H’ll go forward now, sir, an’ let down the 
jib. Then we’ll put over the anchor.” 

These tasks were soon accomplished, and 
then we went to the caboose, built a fire, and 
got what might be called our supper and break- 
fast in one, for we had eaten nothing since the 
previous noon. The meal finished, I asked Bill 
to go into the cabin with me for a much needed 
rest. But he flatly refused, saying: 

‘Ht’s no place for the likes of me, sir; I’ll just 
tumble into my old berth, while ye take the 
cabin. I ’ll call ye, if I wake fust. ’ ’ 

It seemed as though I had barely closed my 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


59 


eyes when he aroused me. ‘‘It’s broad day- 
light, sir, an’ our boats are cornin’ back to 
us,” he explained. 

I sprang up and followed him back to the 
deck. The storm had broken, the sun was at 
least two hours high, and there, between us and 
the town and coming down toward us, were our 
two boats with their crews. 

Silently Bill and I awaited their approach. 
I do not know what his thoughts were, but for 
myself I could not help wondering what would 
be Captain Weston’s greeting. I hoped the sav- 
ing of the brig would appease his animosity, and 
we might now be friends. For the sake of 
peace I was ready to overlook his base attempt 
to leave me on the stranded brig. In this spirit 
I turned towards him, as he mounted the deck, 
and waited somewhat anxiously his first words. 

‘ ‘ So the brig drifted over the reef after all, ’ ’ 
he remarked not unpleasantly. 

“We cut her loose at high tide, and sailed her 
over,” I answered, and in a few more words ac- 


60 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


quainted him with our experiences during the 
previous night. 

‘^Lost her anchor, did you?^^ he commented 
when I had finished the tale, and I thought his 
tones were growing sharp and crusty. 

‘‘We thought it better to lose that than to lose 
the brig,’^ I responded as calmly as I could 
under the resentment which was welling up in 
my heart. 

“Hump!’’ he ejaculated. Then he turned to 
Master Marshall, saying: “Send all hands to 
their quarters, sir, and give them their rations. 
Then call me, ’ ’ and he stalked away to his cabin. 

The moment he was out of sight the first mate 
grabbed my hand. Wringing it heartily, he 
said: 

“You have done a big night’s work. Master 
Dunn. The whole city is talking about it. But 
tell me how you and Bill came to be left on the 
brig. ’ ’ 

“I think I’d better leave that for the Captain 
to explain,” I replied drily. 

But Bill Howard had no such notion, and at 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


61 


a look from Master Marshall blurted out the 
whole story. As he proceeded the face of the 
mate grew grave, and when the old sailor was 
done, he turned to me, declaring : 

‘ ‘ This is a serious matter. Master Dunn. To 
desert you at such a time was little short of out- 
right murder. We must report it to the con- 
sul.^’ 

/ ^ Let us wait a while, ’ ’ I suggested. ‘ ‘ If Cap- 
tain Weston only treats me fairly now, I am 
willing to let bygones be bygones.’^ 

^ ‘ I suppose that would be the easiest way out 
of the unpleasantness,’’ he admitted, ‘‘but un- 
less you are squarely dealt with, I am ready to 
lay the matter before the consul, Remember 
this.” 

Thanking him for his offer, I asked about his 
own experiences the night before. 

“There is little to tell,” he answered. “The 
pilot was able to direct us somewhat, and after 
several hours of fighting with the wind and the 
waves we reached the inner bay and were safe. 
Landing about midnight, the old Portuguese 


62 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


took Tis to a sailor’s inn, where we were cared 
for. Captain Weston had a harder time, and it 
was nearly morning before he reached the 
shore, a mile or two below the town*. Staying 
there until light, he came to the city, where he 
finally located ns. Scarcely had he joined ns 
when the pilot, who had left ns to go to his own 
home, ran back with the astonishing news that 
the brig was anchored in the harbor. The cap- 
tain wouldn’t believe it until his own eyes had 
rested on the craft and then the way he ordered 
ns to our boats and started ns off here would 
have made yon laugh. I had, of course, learned 
that yon and Bill had been left on the vessel, but 
had supposed it was because the second boat 
broke away from her side before you could 
board it.” 

Two hours later the captain had the anchor 
weighed and the brig brought within a few cable 
lengths of the pier, alongside of which he ex- 
pected in a few days to lay her. Then he went 
on shore, and was gone until night. 

I was in charge of the deck when he returned, 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


63 


and with a slight nod in recognition of my pres- 
ence he passed on to his cabin. He did not 
appear again until about nine o^clock the fol- 
lowing morning. Then he came over to the rail 
where I stood looking off towards a British 
frigate which was anchored a half mile farther 
off shore than the brig. There were many signs 
of activity on board the man-of-war, and I was 
confident she was getting ready to leave the 
harbor. The same thought had evidently oc- 
curred to the skipper, for as he reached my 
side he asked : 

‘‘Do you think she is getting under weigh. 
Master DunnT’ 

His tones were cordial, and as pleasantly as I 
could I responded: 

“It looks like it, sir.^^ 

‘ ‘ I must communicate with her captain before 
she goes,’’ he* then declared. “Will you take 
over a note for me ? ” 

“Certainly, sir,” I answered with no thought 
of what the outcome was to be. 

“Get ready the yawl, and I’ll bring the mis- 


64 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


sive at once. There is no time to lose,’’ he said, 
and hnrried away to the cabin. 

The boat was lowered, and four sailors were 
at the oars when he reappeared. Taking the let- 
ter from his hand, I swung down into the craft, 
and gave the order : 

Heave away, lads!” 

As we left the side of the brig, he called out : 

‘^Deliver the letter to Captain Rawlins him- 
self, Master Dunn.” 

‘‘Aye! aye! sir,” I responded. 

We made quick time to the frigate’s side, and 
to my hail : ‘ ‘ Ship ahoy ! I have a message for 
your captain, ’ ’ an officer standing near the star- 
board rail answered: “Boat ahoy! We are 
waiting for you. Come on board at once. ’ ’ 

A little surprised at this greeting, I climbed 
up the ladder and was received by a midship- 
man, who conducted me at once to the captain’s 
quarters. ^ 

That officer sat at one side of a long table, 
and a sub-lieutenant, who was evidently acting 
as his secretary, sat at the other. Saluting the 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


65 


commander, I presented the note I had brought, 
and stood there waiting for the reply which I 
supposed would soon be given. Slowly the cap- 
tain opened and read the note, and then glanc- 
ing up at me, he asked curtly : 

‘‘Your namer^ 

“Arthur Dunn.’^ 

“You are from Massachusetts Colony 

“Yes, sir.^^ 

“Your age?’’ 

“Nearly seventeen, sir.” 

“You have put down these facts?” he in- 
quired now of the young lieutenant. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And you have rated him as an apprentice?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very well,” he remarked, and then turned 
to me, saying to my astonishment : 

“There you are. Master Dunn, duly shipped 
on His Majesty’s frigate, St. George, and we 
hope to hear good things of you. ’ ’ Then to the 
midshipman, who had shown me to the cabin 
and who had all this time been waiting, he said : 


66 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


‘ ‘ Take him forward, Midshipman Seymour, and 
see that he is furnished with the usual outfit.” 

By this time I had recovered sufficiently from 
my astonishment to protest: 

^ ‘ But, sir, I did not come here to ship on the 
frigate. I came simply as Captain Weston’s 
messenger. ’ ’ 

A look of surprise passed over the face of the 
captain as he glanced again at the missive I had 
brought. 

‘Wou admit you are Arthur Dunn,” he then 
said, ‘‘and there can be no mistake. Yesterday 
Captain Weston made full arrangements to 
place you as an apprentice on board of this frig- 
ate. This note says he has sent you he.re for 
that purpose. We will have no further words 
about it. Master Seymour, take him forward 
as I have directed.” 

I knew there was no appeal from this deci- 
sion, and sick at heart at this new and dastardly 
trick of my enemy, I turned and followed my 
conductor to the deck. 


CHAPTER V 

AN UNFOKTUNATE EEMARK 

It was perhaps natural that as I followed Mid- 
shipman Seymour from the cabin I should try 
to think of some way by which I might release 
myself from the unhappy situation in which I 
was now placed. But before I reached the deck 
I had concluded there was little hope of any at- 
tempt on my part proving successful. 

I knew there was no appeal from the decision 
of the captain of the frigate. His word was law 
not only on board of his vessel, but in the port, 
on all matters that pertained to the government 
of his men. Even the consul would hardly dare 


67 


68 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


to interfere in any matter that had arisen be- 
tween him and one of his crew. The best he 
could do would be to report the affair to the 
home government, and months might elapse be- 
fore it was considered, with a likelihood of its 
being sunnnarily dismissed as of too trifling a 
character to claim the attention of the commis- 
sioners. A friendless American lad would stand 
little show in a contest with a British naval 
commander. 

To escape from the ship at that time by my 
own efforts was also out of the question. The 
ship was. already in motion. That meant my 
own yawl had been sent away and so I was not 
surprised to behold it more than half way over 
to the brig when I emerged into the open air. 
But had it still been there by the ship’s side, it 
would have been of no service to me. Admitted 
I could have evaded the officer who had charge 
of me and reached the boat, to return to the 
Young Phoenix in it would only have been plac- 
ing myself again in Captain Weston’s power, 
while to make for the shore would have precip- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


69 


itated a pursuit in which not only all the boats 
of the frigate, but every vessel near enough 
to read her signal, would have speedily engaged. 
Furthermore, to attempt to escape and fail 
would be to subject myself to the ill-will of both 
officers and crew, and render my position on 
the frigate infinitely more uncomfortable than I 
cared even to think of. No one loves a runaway. 
So with the best grace I could muster I fol- 
lowed my conductgr amidships, where I was 
speedily given a sailor’s outfit; then I was taken 
forward and assigned a berth. 

‘‘You belong to the main truck crew, and are 
in the fourth watch, ’ ’ Master Seymour now an- 
nounced. “Put on your rig, and go to your 
place at once, ’ ’ and then he left me. 

In fifteen minutes I had donned my uniform, 
stowed away my extra traps, and was ready for 
the deck. As I came out of the forecastle, an 
officer stepped towards me, possibly to point out 
my station, but I surprised him and my station- 
master by walking over to my place without 
guidance, and by the looks the latter gave each 


70 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


other, I knew I had made a favorable impres- 
sion on them. 

The frigate, under full canvas, and with a 
piping breeze from the north, was making 
straight out to sea. And if I do say it, she made 
a pretty sight. There is to my mind nothing 
much handsomer than a fine ship with all her 
sails set to a favorable breeze ; and I could not 
help a thrill of delight as I took in the scene. 

Yet how strange it seemed to me to be a part 
of it! An hour before there had not been the 
slightest thought on my part that I should ever 
enter His Majesty’s navy. But here I was, 
wearing the royal uniform, duly entered on the 
frigate’s roster, and starting out on a cruise 
whose destination I did not even know. It might 
be a return to the colonies, or a voyage to the 
far east. This did not much concern me. The 
things which rankled me most were that I was 
there against my will, and that in an instant 
I had been thrust out of the cabin and back to 
the forecastle, which latter fact was especially 
galling to my pride. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


71 


My thoughts were rudely interrupted, how- 
ever, by a direct order from Midshipman Sey- 
mour. The main sky sail had in some way 
loosened and wound around its yard, marring 
the beauty and the symmetry of the ship’s rig. 
Noticing it as he was passing me, the young 
officer called out : 

‘ ^ Here, Dunn, hurry aloft there and straighten 
out that sail.” 

I think he called me purposely to test the met- 
tle in me, but I was equal to the feat. 

‘‘Aye! aye! sir,” I answered, and, springing 
to the nearest ladder, I ran up the mast without 
hesitation or fear. In another minute I was as- 
tride the yard, and deftly releasing the canvas, 
I tautened it to its place, returning to the deck 
amid the cheers of my station mates. 

We were now outside of the great reef over 
which I had come in the brig two nights before, 
and our pilot was preparing to leave us. I had 
sometime before noticed that he was the same 
man who had boarded the Young Phoenix the 
night of the storm, but had thought little of the 


72 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


fact. Pilots come and go continually, and it 
was no more strange that he should be hired to 
take the frigate out than that he had been se- 
cured to take the brig into the harbor. But the 
cheers of the sailors attracted his attention, and 
he glanced towards me as I swung off the rat- 
lines to the deck. He stared at me for a moment 
as though he could scarcely believe his eyes, and 
then he turned to the officer of the deck, and 
said something to him in his native tongue. The 
lieutenant replied in the same language, and 
then with their eyes upon me they engaged in 
an earnest conversation for a few minutes. 
Little knowing how much it was to effect my 
future, I went back to my station. 

Once out of the harbor, the bow of the frigate 
was turned towards the south, and, somewhat 
anxious to know whither we were bound, I 
turned to one of my mates, an old tar who had 
started the cheering which had greeted me on 
my return from the maintopmast, asking: 

‘^Say, mate, can you tell me what cruise we 
are onT’ 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


73 


He shook his head. ‘^They don’t let the likes 
of us know,” he explained. ‘‘We may be goin’ 
to the South Pole for all Pete Berry knows. 
Say, youngster, who be ye? Ye’ve seen a ship 
afore, and know a bowline from a rudder, that’s 
sartain. ’ ’ 

Thanking the old sailor for his compliment, 
without explaining how I came to be on the frig- 
ate, I told who I was, and the main facts of my 
sea-faring life. 

‘ ‘ So yer name is Dunn, ’ ’ he commented when 
I was through, “an’ ye’re no greenhorn. I’m 
glad o’ that. We’ve got more’n sixty aboard 
now, an’ don’t need another.” 

The disgust of the old salt as he announced 
this fact amused me and we were soon chatting 
away like old chums. We talked of the ship, of 
her rigging, and of her sailing qualities. Inad- 
vertently during our conversation I alluded to 
a few changes that I would make in the adjust- 
ing of her canvas to bring out her best speed, 
and with a quick discernment Pete asked : 

“Have ye ever ben in the cabin, sir?” 


74 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


‘‘Yes, as mate,’’ I assented, my downfall com- 
ing vividly before me. 

“I thought so,” he remarked curiously; “an’ 
wonder what ye’re doin’ here.” 

Before I could reply we were piped to rations, 
and I was saved from appearing rude by not 
answering him. The rest of the day was passed 
in the usual routine of a man-of-war, and by 
night I had become sufficiently familiar with my 
duties to perform them as readily and handily 
as any of my mates. My deftness was no longer 
a surprise to them, however, for Pete had 
quickly circulated not only the facts of my sea 
experience, but the additional fact that I had 
been an officer on the brig I had just left — 
though this was a shrewd guess on his part, for 
I had not mentioned the vessel on which I had 
served as mate. Greatly amazed that I should 
leave such a berth to enlist on the frigate as an 
apprentice, they became certain there was a 
mystery connected with the incident, which my 
good luck the following day partially explained. 

It came just after our morning rations had 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


75 


been issued. A midshipman came forward, and, 
calling me by name, said I was wanted at once 
in the cabin. Surprised at this summons I 
obeyed, and was ushered into the presence of 
the Captain, who sat in the same place at the 
same table, with the same sub-lieutenant oppo- 
site him as when I was there before. 

“Good morning. Master Dunn,’^ was his 
greeting, and he spoke with a heartiness I had 
not expected. 

‘ ‘ Good morning, sir, ^ ’ I replied politely. 

“You were mate on the brig Young Phoe- 
nix? he then asked. 

“Yes, sir, second mate,’^ I admitted, wonder- 
ing what was coming. 

“Did Captain Weston abandon you when the 
vessel was otf the great reef during the night 
of our recent storm T’ 

“Yes, sir,’’ I assented, querying with myself 
how he could have learned of the fact. 

‘ ^ Then you are that young officer who brought 
the abandoned craft over the reef at flood tide, 
and sailed her safely into the harbor?” 


76 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


‘‘Yes, sir.’’ 

“Do you know, young man, such a thing has 
only been done once before, and that was ten 
years ago? Why, the whole town is talking 
about it!” 

“No, sir, I didn’t know it,” I declared. 

‘ ‘ There was nothing about the feat for them to 
be amazed over. Anyone left on the brig would 
have done just as I did. ’ ’ 

He shook his head in dissent, and then con- 
tinued : 

‘ ‘ Tell me how you had offended your Captain 
so as to lead him to so far forget his conduct as 
an officer as to desert you in a time of danger. ’ ’ 

I told him briefly the reason for Captain 
Weston’s wrath. 

“I won’t attempt to justify you here for dis- 
obeying the command of a superior officer, even 
if he was clearly in the wrong. Sometimes it is 
not a safe thing to do. Of two evils you must 
choose the least, letting another be responsible 
for his own mistake,” he remarked with a smile, 
when I was done. ‘ ‘ But I now understand what 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


77 


you meant yesterday morning by protesting 
you had not come over to the ship with any in- 
tention of enlisting. The whole thing was a 
dastardly trick on the part of your captain 
which he played partly that he might gratify 
his feeling of resentment towards you, but more 
because he dare not face his owners with the 
report that you had saved a vessel which he had 
himself abandoned. With you out of the way 
he can make any report he pleases. ^ ’ 

This was a new view of the matter to me, but 
I could readily see now it might have been the 
chief cause of Captain Weston’s action, so I 
nodded my head in token of the fact that I ac- 
cepted his explanation. Then the commander 
continued : 

‘‘It must have seemed hard to you to be 
thrust in an instant out of the cabin into the 
forecastle.” 

“It did, sir!” 

“Yet you made no fuss.” 

“What good would that have done, sir?” I 
queried. 


78 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


He laughed and was silent for a moment, then 
said: ‘‘Tell me, what experience have you had 
at sea I ’ ’ 

I told him, and then he began to ply me with 
questions about the frigate, about her sails, and 
her lines; how to handle her in emergencies; 
and gave repeated orders, telling me to explain 
them. There was nothing, .however, I did not 
understand, and rapidly as he put the questions, 
I as rapidly answered them. 

“Very good. Master Dunn,’^ he finally re- 
marked. “We have no midshipman on board 
who could have passed a better examination. 
Unfortunately it is too late for me to send you 
back to the brig — and perhaps that would not 
be the wisest thing to do. But it is not too late 
for me to do you what justice I can.” Then 
turning to his secretary, “Take the name of 
Arthur Dunn from the list of apprentices, and 
place it upon the list of midshipmen, dating the 
fact from yesterday.” 

“I have done so,” the lieutenant announced 
a moment later. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


79 


^ ‘ Very well ; go now and call Midshipman Sey- 
mour. ’ ’ 

He obeyed, and soon returned with the young 
officer. 

^‘Midshipman Seymour,’’ the Captain began 
sternly, ‘ ‘ did you understand me to say yester- 
day that this young man was rated as an ap- 
prentice ? ’ ’ 

“Yes, sir,” he stammered, glancing appre- 
hensively at me. 

“Well, sir, some one has made a mistake. 
Mark! I do not say it was you. It may have 
been myself. But it was a mistake, and must 
be rectified at once, sir. He is a midshipman, 
and I want you to rectify the mistake immedi- 
ately. See that he is given a midshipman ’s out- 
fit, and assigned to your own mess at once. Ex- 
plain to your brother officers that there was a 
mistake — for which Master Dunn himself is in 
no way accountable — by which he was sent to 
the forecastle and he has proved he has the first 
characteristic of a good officer — he can obey 


80 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


without a murmur or complaint. Good-mom- 
ing, sir.’^ 

‘‘But let me thank you, sir, for this kind- 
ness,’^ I began. But he interrupted me : 

“It is simply justice, sir, and no man should 
be thanked for doing right. Good-moming. ’ ’ 

So for the second time within twenty-four 
hours I followed Midshipman Seymour from the 
cabin, but with what different feelings in my 
heart! The first time I was filled with bitter- 
ness and wrath, and almost ready to curse my 
fate ; this time I was overflowing with gratitude 
and could even have thanked Captain Weston 
for his base act had he been there. 

I shall not weary you with the details of my 
life on the frigate. I have no complaint to make 
of the way I was treated. My relations with my 
brother officers were for the most part very 
pleasant, and as I now look back to that time I 
in no way regret the ten months I was with 
them. Our cruise was up the Mediterranean, 
and the calls we made at the different ports 
enabled me to become familiar with a portion 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


81 


of the world I had long wanted to see. Bnt the 
greatest valne of those months was the naval 
training I received. Though I knew it not, a 
Divine Providence was in that way fitting me 
for my future career. But I am anticipating. 

In August, 1775, we reached Egypt, and after 
a brief stop at Alexandria, turned our prow to 
the west. ^ ‘ Homeward bound ! ’ ’ my mates de- 
clared. Homeward bound for them, but not for 
me. London, which we reached in September, 
was as much a foreign place to me as any we 
had visited. Still I never tired of its sights, and 
as often as possible I obtained shore leave that 
I might wander through its streets, gaze upon 
its churches, and visit its famous old Tower. 

One day as I was going through Cheapside, on 
my way to Newgate Street, I noticed a crowd 
gathered around a man in the uniform of a Brit- 
ish army officer, who was haranguing them in 
excited tones. Curious to hear what he was 
saying, I went over to them. What was my 
astonishment to find he was telling them of a 
great battle which had taken place at Bunker 


82 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Hill, Boston, in the previous June ! With bitter 
invective he denounced the colonists, and de- 
clared that His Majesty would soon send troops 
enough over there to wipe the rebels off from 
the face of the earth. Then he continued: 

‘‘And that is why, good people, I am here. 
As a recruiting officer for the King I now offer 
you the shilling. Who will walk up, and taking 
it in his palm, enter His Majesty’s service? 
Here is a shilling for each one who is ready to 
cross the seas and avenge the comrades who 
have been slain by the rebels ! Walk right up, 
my friends!” 

Then catching sight of me standing there in 
my naval uniform, he called out : 

‘ ‘ There is the kind of young men I am looking 
for ! Do you notice how fine he looks in his rig? 
I dare say he will soon be sailing across the 
ocean to fight for his King. Won’t you, my 
lad?” 

But I was already heated to the boiling point 
by the tidings I had heard, and, blazing with 



“ What I want is a second mate.” 


tP- >8) 






IN SHIP AND PEISON 


83 


indignation that he should dare ask me, a loyal 
colonist, such a question, I blurted out : 

see His Majesty hung first! Do you 
think I’ll fight against my native country!” 

^ ‘ A rebel ! A rebel ! Right here among us ! 
Seize him, comrades! Don’t let him escape! 
His Majesty knows what to do with such fel- 
lows. Seize him!” and he sprang towards me. 

‘‘Here he is, sir!” cried a stout teamster by 
my side, and he reached out his hand to hold me. 
But I eluded his grasp, and, turning, darted 
back down the street, with the whole crowd at 
my heels. 


CHAPTER VI 


IN WHICH I HAVE MY FIRST TASTE OF A BRITISH 
PRISON 

Around the first corner and down to Watling 
Street I ran, taking the nearest course to the 
river, though I had no intention of returning 
to my ship. The startling news I had heard 
about the state of affairs in the homeland had 
fired me with a patriotism before which all 
thought of allegiance to the King vanished. I 
was inflamed with the desire to cross the ocean 
at once and throw in my lot with my struggling 
countrymen. For the present I would endeavor 
to escape my pursuers ; later I would find some 
way to return to my native land. 


84 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


85 


I came to this decision in the brief time it 
took me to reach St. PanPs church. Turning 
there, I crossed Carter Lane and Queen Street, 
and came out upon the Thames near St. PauPs 
pier. Here a glance behind me showed that I 
had distanced my pursuers. Noting this fact 
with much satisfaction, I sped out upon the 
wharf and darted through the open door of the 
nearest warehouse. No one appeared to dis- 
pute my entrance or to check my advance, and 
swiftly I glided between the barrels and boxes 
to the farthest side of the room. Here I found 
another door. It was closed but unfastened, and 
I had time to open it before the angry mob that 
was following me appeared. Passing quickly 
into the next apartment, I shut the door and 
rolled a huge cask of rum against it, effectually 
barring it. Confident now that it would be some 
time before my pursuers discovered my where- 
abouts, I proceeded leisurely through the semi- 
darkness of the room to a place where great 
bales of cotton were piled nearly to the ceiling. 
Among these I at length found an open space 


86 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


wliicli allowed me to crawl back of the outer 
tier, where I lay do\\Ti and waited. 

So still was the immense building I conld 
plainly hear the pursuing men enter the other 
apartment in search of me. The persistence 
with which they kept at their task told of their 
eagerness to find me. At length two of them 
tried the door of the room in which I was hiding, 
and, on discovering it was barred, one of them 
exclaimed confidently: 

‘ ‘ He cannot have gone in there ! ^ ’ 

Where is he thenP’ asked the other doubt- 
ingly. “I certainly saw him enter here. Where 
can he have goneP^ 

‘^Out of that open scuttle in the roof,” an- 
swered the first. 

‘‘But it is more than four and twenty feet 
to the ground,” objected the second. 

“What of that!” retorted his companion 
scornfully. ‘ ‘ He ’s a sailor and can climb up or 
down these walls as easily as he would a mast. 
IPs just as I told you, while we have been look- 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


87 


ing for him among these boxes and barrels, he 
has made good his escape/^ 

The objector seemed to be convinced, for 
without another word he followed his comrade 
down the room. The sound of their footsteps 
grew fainter and fainter, and finally ceased alto- 
gether. Evidently the search for me had been 
abandoned. Still I did not stir. I was safely 
hidden, and would remain where I was until the 
hour for closing the warehouse had come. 

Opposite the opening through which I had 
crawled was an outside door, one edge of which 
was warped enough to allow a few rays of light 
to enter. I watched these, 'knowing that when 
they disappeared it would be time for me to 
make a move. 

How slowly the minutes passed! ^Vliat a 
tumult of thoughts crowded through my brain ! 
The events since I had left the colony came 
trooping in rapid succession. The life on board 
the frigate was lived over again. With these 
bygone experiences came plans for the future. 
I knew there were several vessels in the river 


88 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


hailing from American ports. Once let their 
captains know of the battle at Bunker Hill and 
they would hasten to sail for home. Doubtless 
on one of these crafts I could find a berth. I 
resolved therefore, to visit them in turn under 
the cover of the night until I had secured a 
place. 

At length the light through the doorway grew 
so faint as to be scarcely perceptible, and I 
crawled out of my hole, and went over to the 
entrance. First gently, and then more vigor- 
ously I tried to open the door. My efforts were 
useless, however, for it was fastened on the out- 
side. So I retraced my steps to the place where 
1 had entered, rolled the cask away from the 
door, and opened it. Stepping through into the 
next room, I turned to close the entrance after 
me, when a voice startled me. 

‘ ‘ So you were there after all, my young ban- 
tam,” it exclaimed. ‘‘Tim Waters thought so. 
You didnT fool him, if you did the others; aud- 
it has been worth while to wait for you too, for 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


89 


now the five pounds offered for your capture 
is mine/^ 

A glance showed me that the speaker was a 
burly fellow, evidently the porter of the ware- 
house. Doubtless he had known that the door 
between the apartments of the building was not 
fastened, and finding it secured, had quickly 
divined that I was within. So, stimulated by 
the reward offered for my apprehension, he 
had patiently awaited my coming. 

Scarcely had I surmised this fact when he 
sprang forward to seize me. But quick as he 
was, I was quicker, and, eluding his grasp, 
dodged by him. So confident was he that he 
was going to grab me, he had put his whole 
force into his forward spring, and now^ missing 
me, he also lost his balance, and plunged head- 
long against the door. Startled by his call, I 
had but partly closed it, and, swinging back as 
he came against it, he was precipitated into the 
other room. The cask which I had used as a 
barricade was only a few feet away, and strik- 
ing upon this with his head and shoulders on 


90 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


one side and Ms legs and feet upon the other, 
he set it to rolling. I could scarcely refrain 
from a shout of laughter as I saw him strug- 
gling to regain his feet, and by his very efforts 
sending his unwieldly steed farther and farther 
down the room. Not until the barrel fetched 
up against the pile of cotton bales did it stop, 
and even then it was a moment or two before 
he could regain an upright position. I only 
waited long enough to notice he was not seri- 
ously injured, and then shutting the door, I 
fastened it on my side by passing a piece of a 
box cover through the door handle. 

In another minute I was in the open air, and 
finding the way clear, I hastened through the 
fast falling darkness to the street. Keeping in 
the shadows as much as possible, I went down 
the river bank to a point nearly opposite the 
first American vessel. Here I undertook to 
reach the end of an adjacent wharf, hoping 
there to find a boat in which I could visit the 
brig. But I had hardly got a dozen feet down 
the planking before a watchman confronted me. 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


91 


saying gruffly as he tried to look me over in 
the darkness: 

‘‘Who are you? What do you want here? 
Are you that rebel midshipman I have been told 
to look out for? Faith, I believe you are!’^ 
and he seized me by the collar before I could do 
a thing to prevent him. 

Then began a struggle which lasted for some 
minutes. We were about equally matched in 
strength, but he had me at a disadvantage and 
I am quite sure would have at length mastered 
me but for an accident. Coming to a place where 
the flooring suddenly raised itself a few inches, 
he stumbled and fell full length upon his back. 
I was pulled down upon him, but he lost his 
hold upon me, and before he could recover it, 
I regained my feet and was away. 

I had no trouble in eluding him, or those he 
aroused by his cries, but as I made otf under 
the friendly cover of the night I must confess 
my heart was filled with apprehension. It was 
very evident that the whole water front had 
been guarded against every attempt on my part 


92 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


to board a ship from the colonies. The offer of 
a reward for my arrest had, moreover, put all 
the watchmen on the alert. If I escaped, there- 
fore, two things were clear: I must change 
my naval garb for one less conspicuous, and 
I must make off across the country to some 
other port. Having come to this conclusion, I 
left the river, and started towards the rear end 
of the town. After going a mile or more the 
lights of a second-hand clothing shop attracted 
me. Crossing the street, I glanced in at the win- 
dow. The store was evidently kept by an old 
Jew who was alone, and I ventured in. 

‘‘Have you a second-hand rig you would ex- 
change for this I have on T ’ I briefly asked. 

He glanced curiously at me, and then with a 
shrewd look in his eyes remarked : 

“Running away from your ship, are you!” 

“Yes,^^ I admitted promptly, “but I am will- 
ing to give you a good bargain, so what does 
that matter to youP’ 

He shook his head. “It might get me into 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


93 


trouble with the naval authorities/’ he replied. 
‘Ht’s risky business.” 

“I don’t see how,” I retorted. ^‘You can tell 
them I claimed to have surrendered my com- 
mission, or any thing else you choose. They 
cannot blame you for making a good trade when 
you had the chance.” 

He came slowly around his counter and 
looked my uniform carefully over. It was 
nearly new, and in excellent condition, and as 
he noted these facts the look in his eyes changed 
to one of greed. 

‘Ht’s risky, risky,” he replied, ‘‘and I can’t 
allow you much for the garments. But here 
is something I will give you for it,” and he led 
the way to the other side of the shop. Prom a 
shelf he took what had evidently been the suit 
of a farmer lad. It was of coarse material and 
well worn, yet neat and clean. 

“I took this a week ago from a youngster 
who ran away to sea,” he explained; “now I’ll 
exchange with you to help you run away from 


94 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


the sea, ’ ’ and he laughed at his attempt at face- 
tiousness. 

The clothes were not worth half those I was 
wearing, but I did not hesitate. 

will do it,’^ I said. ^‘Can I go into your 
back room and make the change ’ 

He assented, and led me into the rear room, 
leaving me alone, as another customer came in 
just then. I took the opportunity, while chang- 
ing my clothing, to look over the state of my 
finances, finding I had five shillings and a six- 
pence. There was little likelihood of my earn- 
ing any more and this sum, therefore, must last 
me until I could find a ship for home. So it was 
clear that whatever port I decided to go to, I 
must walk, in order to husband my little store. 

My first anxiety, however, was to put the city 
behind me, and with this end in view, upon leav- 
ing the shop I struck off uptown at a brisk rate. 
An hour later, in the outskirts, I stopped at an 
inn long enough to get supper, and then re- 
sumed my tramp. All night long I kept it up, 
but as dawn came on, finding myself near a 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


95 


small village, which I afterwards learned to be 
Watford, I entered and made my way to its one 
tavern. There I secured a room, to which I at 
once retired for a much needed rest. Some 
hours later I was awakened by the inn-keeper, 
whom I found sitting down on the side of my 
bed gazing long and fixedly at me. 

‘‘There is a squad of soldiers down stairs 
who are looking for a lad about your size and 
build, I should judge. ’ ^ 

Though greatly alarmed by the tidings, there 
was something in the man’s gaze which reas- 
sured me, and I waited for him to go on : 

“They say he is a young rebel from the colon- 
ies, who has cursed the King.” 

Still I was silent. 

“Tell me all about it,” he continued. “You 
have a friend in me. ’ ’ 

The man’s dealing with me proved that, so 
I frankly told my story. 

“If that is all, I will protect you,” he de- 
clared. “I have a brother over there, and my 


96 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


sympathies are with the colonies. I hope they 
will win,” and he abruptly left the room. 

Listening at the door, I heard him descend 
tie stairs, and say to the officer in charge of 
the troopers : 

have no one here dressed as you say that 
young rebel was; but I’ll tell you what I’ll do. 
If he comes this way. I’ll take care of him,” a 
promise he literally kept. For he not only 
boarded me a week, long enough, as he believed, 
to end all search for me, but on my departure 
put money enough into my hands to pay my 
fare by stage to Liverpool, where he advised 
me to go. 

“You may regard all I have done for you as 
a loan,” were his parting words, “and repay 
me when I come to America, ” a thing I am glad 
to say I was able to do. 

I left Watford with little fear of detection, 
and enjoyed to the full my ride across the coun- 
try to St. Helen’s, a small town a few miles 
out of Liverpool. The stage reached there just 
at dark, and, as I had done a half dozen times 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


97 


before, I descended from its top and entered 
the tavern to order supper and a room for the 
night. Two feet over the threshold a hand was 
laid upon my shoulder and a voice I instantly 
recognized said: 

‘ ‘ Master Dunn, yon are my prisoner. ’ ’ It was 
the recruiting sergeant whom I had heard in 
Cheapside, London, telling of the war with the 
colonies. 

Resistance was useless, for behind the officer 
stood four soldiers with their muskets ready for 
instant use, so I submitted to my arrest with 
the best grace I could muster. 

In a few minutes they mounted me upon a 
horse, surrounded me with a squad of troopers, 
and hurried me off towards Liverpool. Reach- 
ing the city, they hastened along its narrow 
streets to a huge stone building on the river’s 
edge before which they stopped. Tumbling me 
unceremoniously from the beast I rode, they led 
me through the heavy portals, and along the 
dark corridors to a room in the rear, into which 
they thrust me and swung to its stout door with 


98 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


a clang that still echoes in my ears. I did not 
need to be told where I was — the structure, its 
form, its appearance, its interior arrangements, 
spoke louder than human words. It said in a 
silent but unmistakable language, ‘‘You are in 
a British prison.’’ 


CHAPTER VII 

I MEET A NEW FRIEND 

I will not attempt to describe my feelings as 
I stood there in the darkness, with those stout 
walls shutting me from the liberty I craved — 
craved that I might give myself to the service 
of my struggling country. I am quite sure I 
could not at that time separate the mingled feel- 
ings of chagrin, regret, and hopelessness that 
oppressed me. One word alone can express the 
condition of my mind and heart just then — 
despair. I could have shed tears if it would 
have been of any use ; it may be a sob did escape 
me, but if so it was speedily checked, for a 


99 


100 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


heavy voice spoke from the farthest corner of 
the room, demanding: 

^‘Who are youP’ 

I had supposed I was alone in the cell. Sur- 
prised now to find I was sharing it with another, 
I nevertheless was able to answer promptly : 

‘‘An unfortunate prisoner like yourself.’’ 

“Yes,” was the response, “but I mean are 
you British or American?” and I thought I de- 
tected an eagerness, almost a suspense in the 
speaker’s voice as he waited for an answer. 

“American,” I replied. 

“Thank God for that!” was the immediate 
ejaculation. Then I heard a sound as thougli 
one was rising from a bed, and the next instant 
the man came over where I was with rapid 
strides. 

“I am Samuel Tucker, a sea captain from 
Marblehead, in the colony of Massachusetts,” 
he announced much to my astonishment. “Now 
tell me who are you?” 

“Captain Tucker!” I cried, ignoring his 
question in my surprise and joy. “Captain 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


101 


Samuel Tucker of Marblehead, and I came 
across the ocean to find you ! Who would have 
thought we should meet here — in a cell of the 
Liverpool jail 

‘‘ ‘Came across the ocean to find me,’ ” he 
repeated, and I could not help noticing the won- 
derment in his tones. “Pray tell me then who 
are you?” 

“I am Arthur Dunn, the son of Captain 
Dunn, with whom you once sailed,” I replied, 
and then rapidly, yet in fullest detail, I told my 
story, beginning with my mother’s dying re- 
quest, and ending with my arrest an hour or 
two before. 

“So you are in jail for the very same reason 
I am,” he remarked with a slight laugh when 
I was done. Then he spun his own yarn. 

He had made a quick voyage to Lisbon, dis- 
charged his cargo, taken another, and returned 
to the colony. Then he had sailed for Mar- 
seilles, France. There an agent of the English 
government had come to him, desiring to char- 


102 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


ter his brig to go over to Gibraltar and convey 
a company of soldiers to Liverpool. 

<<The rascal never told me why the regiment 
was hurrying home/^ the Captain explained, 
^‘or I would not have let him have my craft at 
any price. But the pay was good, and I fell 
into the same trap that a half dozen other 
Yankee skippers did. We went to Gibraltar 
and brought in here a regiment which sailed the 
very next day after its arrival for the colonies 
to fight our countrymen. Wlien I learned the 
truth my blood boiled within me, and I cursed 
the King and his government to the agent’s 
face when he came to pa}^ me the charter 
money. I might have known what would fol- 
low ; the confiscation of my vessel and my incar- 
ceration here. But the fellow knew just what 
I thought of him and the government,” he con- 
cluded with a chuckle. 

^‘How long have you been in here?” I now 
asked. 

‘ ^ Two weeks, ’ ’ he responded ; ‘ ‘ but come over 
here, ’ ’ he added in a low whisper, and, taking 


IN SHIP ANDIPRISON 


103 


me by the arm, he led me down the cell to its 
one narrow window, through which so little 
light came that I had not noticed it until then. 

Once at the aperture he raised my hands with 
his own to the window frame, and then I became 
aware that he was removing it. Placing it 
noiselessly on the floor, he carried my hand up 
to the iron grating, which I soon found he was 
taking down bar by bar. 

‘‘There,” he said at length in a tone so low 
I could scarcely hear him, “you see the way is 
clear for our escape. This is why I was so 
anxious to find out if you were an American. I 
wanted no one here to thwart my plans. We 
shall go at midnight, so you will not be long 
within these walls, Master Dunn,” and again 
he chuckled. 

‘ ‘ But is not the river outside this wall ? ” I 
questioned, “and some feet below? How are 
we to get down to it?” 

“With this,” he replied, and carrying my 
hand up to his bosom I felt hidden inside of his 
shirt a coil of stout rope. “Oh! the prepara- 


104 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


tions are all made, and cannot fail,’’ lie con- 
tinned confidently. boat from a Yankee ship 
in the river will come under this window at mid- 
night, and lowering ourselves into that, we shall 
be taken off to the vessel which will sail before 
daylight. The only change in the plan is she 
will carry two passengers instead of one. You 
see, you came just in time to go home with me, 
Master Dunn.” 

The confidence in his own tones inspired me. 
A half-hour before I had been on the verge of 
despair; now I was nearly wild in my exuber- 
ance of joy. I could scarcely wait for the hour 
to come when we should leave our cell. Then 
I fell to wondering how Captain Tucker had 
been able to arrange so completely his plan of 
escape and as though he divined my thought, 
the captain told me, while we waited the coming 
of the rescuing yawl. 

‘^Anchored in the harbor, near my own brig, 
at the time of my arrest,” he began, ‘‘was the 
ship Rebecca Morris from Philadelphia. Her 
captain is an old friend of mine, and I knew if 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


105 


I could manage to communicate with him he 
would do all in his power to help me escax^e. 
Under the pretext of sending a message to my 
family in the colonies I asked the turnkey who 
came to my cell daily to take a letter otf to Cap- 
tain Allen. At first the fellow, demurred, but 
when I otfered him my watch, a valuable one, in 
return for the favor, and let him see the note I 
had written, he yielded. Unbeknown to him, 
however, I substituted a second note for the first 
one, in which I described the situation of my 
cell, and suggested a way in which my friend 
could aid me. That night a boat came under 
my window, bringing the things I had asked 
for — a file and a stout rope. Meanwhile I re- 
moved the sash with my pocket knife, and un- 
raveled one of my stockings to obtain the string 
I needed. With the latter I pulled up a stouter 
cord, and then the file and the rope from the 
yawl. I knew it would take me several days to 
cut through the bars, and so sent down a note 
requesting the boat to return here for me to- 
night. When the cord came back, there was a 


106 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


line from Captain Allen himself assuring me 
he would be here without fail.’’ 

As the moments passed I could not help 
growing anxious lest for some reason the 
friendly captain should fail us. On the other 
hand, Captain Tucker was as cool and undis- 
turbed as it was possible for a man to be. 

‘‘I know Christopher Allen,” he declared 
again and again, ‘‘and he will be here as sure 
as the sun will rise tomorrow morning. All the 
guards on the river cannot stop him. He ’ll find 
a way to outwit them and rescue us.” 

At length there came the yowl of a cat from 
somewhere on the river. Captain Tucker 
leaped to his feet (for we had been sitting on 
the edge of the bed while we waited), exclaim- 
ing in a suppressed whisper: 

“What did I tell you. Master Dunn? He is 
almost here.” 

Again the yowl sounded nearer, and as 
though the animal was floating on the tide down 
by the jail. Then it came the third time directly 
under our window-sill. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


107 


My companion had already drawn the coil 
of rope from his bosom, and was making one 
end fast to a piece of the iron grating. Placing 
this across the narrow aperture, he threw out 
the cord, and turned to me, saying: 

‘^All is ready. Master Dimn, and you shall 
go first. Tell Captain Allen, however, that I’m 
right behind you.” 

‘^Nay, sir,” I remonstrated, ‘‘you should go 
first, as the plan is yours and — ” but I did not 
finish. 

“I am in command here,” he interrupted 
with an authority I could not dispute, “and 
you are to go now. ’ ’ 

With the words he lifted me in his brawny 
arms and thrust me feet foremost through the 
opening. I caught the rope in my hands and 
in another moment was gliding swiftly down 
it. The distance was not so great as I had ex- 
pected, and it seemed but an instant before 
stout hands seized me and set me gently down 
in the boat. 


108 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


^‘You are not Captain Tucker,” a voice then 
whispered in my ear. 

‘‘No,” I admitted in the same low tone, “I 
am Arthur Dunn, a fellow prisoner whom Cap- 
tain Tucker insisted should come down first. 
He is right behind me.” 

The swaying of the rope confirmed my words, 
and, pushing me one side, the same brawny 
arms caught the captain as he came down. The 
next minute the light craft darted off down the 
river as swiftly as four oars could pull it. 

I had been given a place in the bow, while 
Captain Tucker sat with Captain Allen in the 
stern of the boat. What passed between them 
on our way to the ship I never knew, but when 
we were in her cabin her skipper turned to me, 
and putting his hand in mine, said : 

“I have had a double pleasure tonight. Mas- 
ter Dunn. Instead of plucking one patriot out 
of the hands of the enemy, I have taken two. 
I knew your father. I believe he has in you a 
son worthy of him. You are welcome to a place 
among us.” 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


109 


I thanked him as best I could, and went to the 
berth assigned me with a heart full of gratitude 
to the overruling Providence that had so won- 
derfully cared for me and given me such kind 
friends. 

But I was destined to find a more powerful 
friend before that voyage was finished. This 
was Master Robert Morris, the owner of the 
vessel, and a member of the Continental Con- 
gress, who was on board as a passenger. Either 
Captain Tucker or Captain Allen must have 
told him who I was and how I came to be on 
board the ship, for when I went on deck the next 
morning, he came up to me, and having con- 
gratulated me on my escape from the British 
prison, said with a smile : 

‘^We ought to hear good things from you and 
Captain Tucker. You both have early shown 
that you are loyal to the colonies.’’ 

Having no desire to be a drone on the vessel, 
I went to the captain after breakfast and 
offered my services in any place he could use 


me. 


110 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


‘‘It is commendable in yon, Master Dunn, to 
make this offer,’’ he replied, “and I will say 
I rather expected it of you. It is your father 
all over again. But there is no place I can put 
you except with the sailors. Captain Tucker 
has already made a similar offer, and I can 
hardly put the best skipper that ever sailed out 
of a New England port out of the cabin, so I 
have created the berth of a third mate in order 
to use him. You can hardly expect me to ar- 
range for a fourth mate much as I should like 
to keep you with us. But if you care to go to 
the forecastle, I will enter you on the ship’s 
roster as an able seaman. ’ ’ 

“I had rather go there than be idle,” I 
answered promptly, and, having been assigned 
my watch and station, I went forward. Though 
I did not know it then, my act greatly pleased 
Master Morris, who was already furtively 
watching both Captain Tucker and myself for 
proofs of our seamanship. 

Before the voyage was over he had the oppor- 
tunity to see us in positions which tested to the 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


111 


full our qualities as sailors, for ere a week had 
passed we encountered one of the severest gales 
I ever experienced. For three days it raged, 
carrying away our shrouds and yards as if they 
were tow, racking the ship until her seams 
opened, and she was in great jeopardy. What 
was even worse, the Captain was stricken down 
by a falling spar, and both of his limbs were 
broken. 

In this emergency Captain Tucker stepped 
forward and offered to take charge of the ves- 
sel. To this Master Morris and the mates read- 
ily assented. The new commander’s first act 
was to assign me to his own position as third 
mate, and his second to assure the men he 
would save the vessel, if they would only 
promptly obey his orders. Then he went to the 
wheel, and, taking the helm into his own hands, 
guided the ship all that night through the storm. 

His orders, issued from the wheel, were 
promptly executed by the sailors who had taken 
on new courage and when dawn came and the 
tempest abated, there was not a single soul on 


112 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


board but wbat was ready to own that it was to 
his skill and knowledge the ship and the crew 
owed their preservation. 

This deed was the link in the chain that se- 
cured the fast friendship of Master Morris. 
Grateful for the saving of his vessel, upon our 
arrival in port, he introduced Captain Tucker 
to some of the other members of the Continental 
Congress, and before he left Philadelphia for 
home he had the promise of a captain’s com- 
mission in the Continental Navy. 

Nor was I forgotten. Master Morris spoke 
a kind word for me, and I was assured that I 
should have a midshipman’s commission in re- 
turn for the one I had lost. 


CHAPTER VIII 

OUR FIRST PRIZE 

Our arrival in Marblehead created quite a 
sensation. Tidings of Captain Tucker’s im- 
prisonment and the confiscation of his vessel 
had already reached there, while his escape was 
unknown. His sudden appearance in the streets 
of the village therefore brought him almost an 
ovation, and men, women, and even the children 
crowded around him, hoping to hear how he 
had escaped the enemy’s hands. 

A few of the townspeople remembered my 
visit to the place several months before in 
search of the Captain, and when it became 


113 


114 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


known that I had also been thrown into jail for 
defying the King, I came in for my own share 
of public attention; so for some days we both 
knew what it was to be famous. 

Then the excitement subsided, and we were 
permitted to move among the people in a com- 
monplace sort of way, and unmolested to attend 
to the daily tasks that fell to us. At the Cap- 
tain’s request I made my home with him while 
we awaited our commissions, and, save for a 
brief visit to my native village early in January, 
I did not leave him. 

It was January 20, (1776) when I returned 
from my visit. As I had only a small bundle 
with me, I left the stage at the door of the 
tavern, and started to walk to the house I now 
called my home. I had gone but a few yards 
when I heard the clatter of a horse’s hoofs be- 
hind me, and, turning, I saw a man in martial 
costume and adorned with the trappings of 
rank riding in hot haste towards me. 

His coming had already aroused much 
curiosity on the part of the villagers, for they 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


115 


were gathering at the windows and on the 
streets and wharves, to gaze at the trooper as 
he galloped along. He dashed by me, and took 
the nearest road to Captain Tucker’s residence 
on Rowland Hill. Suspecting he was a messen- 
ger from the Congressional Committee, I quick- 
ened my steps and came in sight of the house 
in time to witness an amusing scene. 

Captain Tucker was out in the yard chopping 
wood. The gaily decked officer rode up and dis- 
mounted. Seeing a person dressed in ordinary 
garb — a tarpaulin hat slouching over his face, 
a pea jacket and red waistcoat covering his 
body, brown breeches on his legs, and a flaming 
bandanna waving about his neck — he, naturally 
perhaps, thought he must have come to the 
wrong place, and so called out roughly: 

‘ ^ I say, fellow, I wish you would tell me if the 
Honorable Samuel Tucker lives hereabouts?” 

‘‘Honorable? Honorable?” questioned the 
Captain with a shrewd look at the stranger. 
‘ ‘ There is not any man of that name in Marble- 
head. He must be one of the family of Tuckers 


116 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


in Salem. I am the only Samuel Tucker here.” 

The trooper took his packet from his pocket, 
looked at it again and again. ^ ‘Lives in a house, 
two stories, gable-end, standing by itself on a 
hill, not far from the bay shore, a piece of 
woods near it,” he read out slowly. “Surely 
this must be the place,” he commented, looking 
sharply around him; and then eying the chop- 
per from head to foot, he continued : 

“Captain Glover at Cambridge told me that 
he knew Master Tucker well, and that he lived 
in Marblehead, and described his house for 
me — ‘gable-end, on the sea-side, none near it.’ 
Faith, this looks like the very place. ’ ’ 

The ijarley, however, soon came to an end, 
for the messenger was not slow to notice the 
gallant look and noble appearance of the man 
before him, and knew he could not be mistaken. 

“You yourself must be Captain Tucker,” he 
declared, handing the packet to the man before 
him, ‘ ‘ and here is your commission as a Captain 
in the Continental Navy. I also have a midship- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


117 


man’s commission for Arthur Dunn. Can you 
tell me where I may find him?” 

‘ ‘ He ’s right behind you, I reckon, ’ ’ remarked 
the captain, taking his packet and waiting for 
me to take mine. Then he invited the stranger 
to come into the house and take a rest and re- 
freshments before he returned to Cambridge — 
an invitation which was gratefully accepted. 

With the commissions were our assignments 
to the frigate Franklin, carrying sixteen guns, 
and stationed at Beverly. The Captain was also 
directed to get her in readiness at once for a 
cruise. 

Busy days followed. The stores were 
shipped, the ammunition was placed on board, 
and in a week we would have been ready for 
sea had our outfit of small arms arrived. After 
three days delay Captain Tucker grew impa- 
tient, and, going over to Salem, he purchased the 
weapons with his own money and had them sent 
on board. As he saw them arranged in their 
racks, he turned to me, who had been directing 
the work, and remarked with satisfaction: 


118 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


There! we’ll get oil tomorrow morning, 
Master Dnnn. ’ ’ 

He went over to Marblehead that evening 
and when he returned he carried a huge bundle 
in his arms. To his executive officer, Lieutenant 
Petty place, he explained : 

‘Ht’s a banner my wife has been making for 
us. Tomorrow, before we sail, we’ll break it 
out from the masthead. ’ ’ 

Naturally curious to see it. Master Fetty- 
place. Lieutenant Salter, the second officer, and 
myself, who stood near, waited for him to show 
the flag to us. But he did not do it. It was not 
until my own hands pulled the cord the next 
morning which unfurled the banner from the 
frigate’s peak that we saw the beautiful piece 
which Mistress Tucker had wrought. 

There it floated on the gentle breeze : a white 
field, a green union, made in the form of a pine 
tree, with the motto beneath it : ‘ ‘ An appeal to 
heaven.” And under that flag we fought until 
Congress had adopted the stars and stripes. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


119 


Ten minutes later with every foot of the 
ship^s canvas stretched to the north-west wind, 
we were standing out to sea. Once out of the 
harbor, our bow was turned towards Cape Cod, 
and a man was sent to the cross-trees to be on 
the lookout for prizes. We found not one, but 
two, much sooner than we expected. The cir- 
cumstances as near as I can recall were these: 

J ust before dark, hearing a loud cannonading 
on our left, and apparently some distance away, 
we directed our course thither. Before the night 
fairly shut down, we came near enough to see 
four vessels engaged in conflict. Two of these, 
a ship and a brig, were flying the British flag, 
while the other two were schooners, and clearly 
American privateers. 

Not wishing to take the English vessels from 
those who had first discovered them, and who 
had the first right to them as prizes if they 
could capture them, we refrained from entering 
into the engagement. But when the enemy beat 
off our friends, and sailed away towards Boston, 
we immediately gave chase. The Britishers 


120 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


and our own ship were evidently faster sailers 
than the privateers, and soon we had left them 
behind. At nine o’clock they were out of sight, 
and the chase was all our own. Then the wind 
nearly failed, and for an hour or two we drifted 
along a mile behind our prey. 

About this time our lookout reported another 
sail some distance away off our starboard. It 
was too dark to make, her out, and Captain 
Tucker immediately ordered out a boat, and 
putting me in charge, directed me to go over 
and reconnoitre the strange vessel. 

“Take a dark lantern with you. Master 
Dunn,” he said, “and, if she prove to be an 
English cruiser, suspend your light near the 
edge of the water as a signal of your immediate 
return. We’ll he on the lookout for you. If, 
however, she be an American vessel, then 
elevate your light in the air, and we’ll come 
down, pick you up, and speak with her.” 

^\A.ye, aye, sir!” I responded, and descending 
to the yawl, I gave the order to pull away. 

When near enough for the sound of our oars 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


121 


to be detected, we muffled them, and cautiously 
advanced, seeking to get under the stern of the 
craft without being discovered. At length we 
were near enough to discern through the dark- 
ness that she was a trim schooner carrying ten 
guns, and that her course showed she was try- 
ing to overhaul the British vessels. This fact 
made me a little suspicious of her character, 
for it seemed to me a daring attempt for her 
to be following up two vessels, each larger than 
herself, with an idea of attacking them. I 
called the attention of our boatswain, Joseph 
Lewis, to this circumstance, asking in a low 
tone: 

^‘Does it not seem to you. Master Lewis, that 
she must be a Britisher, a consort of the ship 
and brig, and is endeavoring to overhaul 
themP’ 

‘‘Two things are agin that, sir,^^ he replied 
in the same cautious way. “Fust, thar’s her 
build. She came from Yankee stocks as sure as 
my name is Joe Lewis. Then thar’s the flag she 
carries. I canT jest make it out, sir, but it ainT 


122 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


the English colors. As for her followin’ two 
vessels larger than herself, that doesn’t signify. 
We’ve got Capt’ns who’d do it with half her 
guns, hopin’ to find a way to cut out one or 
t’other of them. I’m sure, sir, we’ll find she’s 
a friend. 'I’m ready to risk runnin’ right up 
to her.” 

hardly think we’ll do that,” I answered. 
^‘But we’ll work up under her stern, and make 
sure who she is.” 

^‘I beg yer pardon, sir,” he continued, ‘‘but 
if ye’ll order all the men to lie low in the boat, 
an’ git down yerself, an’ let me have an oar. 
I’ll scull her up under the schooner in no time 
without their ’specting we’re thar.” 

I gave the necessary command, and, stooping 
as low as he possibly could and yet work an 
oar, he sent our yawl noiselessly forward in the 
wake of the stranger. Five minutes later he 
touched my arm. I looked up and he made a 
quick upward gesture. I understood, and 
opened my dark lantern enough to send a single 
ray of light on the stem of the schooner which 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


123 


was now just above onr heads. With a thrill of 
delight I read her name — Katy — and her port — 
Providence in the Rhode Island Plantations. 

Dropping behind her far enough to make it 
safe to signal our frigate, we raised our light 
high in the air with an oar, and waited. It was 
not long, light as the breeze was, before the ship 
was alongside of us, and, picking us up, she 
went on after the schooner. In ten minutes we 
spoke with her, and her captain, Abraham 
Whipple, came on board. 

Captain Tucker and he speedily came to an 
agreement to join forces and attack the Englisli 
vessels, and since Captain Tucker held his com- 
mission from the Continental Congress, it was 
arranged that both of the Yankee crafts should 
be under his command. These preliminaries 
completed, we hastened on as fast as the light 
wind would permit us after the enemy. It was 
clear by their course that they were striving to 
make Boston harbor; and equally clear after 
an hour or two of watching that all four vessels 
were about equally matched in speed. 


124 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


As we drew near Long Island clouds overcast 
the dim stars, shutting out what light we had, 
and we were uncertain whether the ships we 
were pursuing took the east or west channel. 
So Captain Tucker signalled the Katy to go up 
the east side, while he went up the west side of 
the island. It was our good fortune to speedily 
overtake the transports which, running too close 
to the flats, got aground. 

Clearing away our guns, we ran abreast the 
Britishers and poured in a broadside. They 
both responded from their starboard batteries, 
the only ones they could use. Our shots were 
low and did great havoc among the troops and 
crew of the enemy. On the other hand, their 
guns were aimed too high and the balls passed 
above our heads, riddling our sails and doing 
much damage to our spars and rigging; then 
they swept on, endangering the Rhode Island 
schooner, which lay on the other side of the is- 
land, becalmed, in range of the English cannon, 
and unable to change her position or to render 
us any assistance. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


125 


For a half-hour the battle raged until the 
commander of the British ship was slain, when 
she struck her colors, and her consort quickly 
followed. I was with Lieutenant Fettyplace 
when he boarded the larger craft, finding her to 
be the George, from Glasgow, Scotland. Lieu- 
tenant Salter went off to the brig, and reported 
her to be the Annahella from the same Scottish 
port. Each vessel carried a large cargo of am- 
munition, clothing and stores for the British 
army, while on the latter were two hundred and 
fifty Highland soldiers, under command of 
Colonel Archibald Campbell, and belonging to 
General Frazer’s corps. 

In the conflict we had not lost a man, nor had 
any of the ship’s company been seriously 
wounded. In short, our only damage was to 
our sails and rigging. But the enemy had suf- 
fered greatly. More than two score men were 
more or less injured, while thirty-six, including 
the captain of the George, lay dead. 

One of the saddest sights I remember in all 
my naval experience was that of the next day, 


126 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


when we buried the dead Scotchmen on the 
island. It was heartrending to see the women, 
who had accompanied the troops, weeping with 
loud lamentations, and to hear the bag-pipes 
play the funeral dirge. 

The hours before the sad burial had been 
spent in floating the prizes, and transferring 
our prisoners to the Franklin. A stiff breeze 
from the southwest had enabled the Katy to re- 
join us. So the funeral once over, prize-crews 
were placed on the captured vessels, and we 
sailed for Lynn. 

There we turned them over to the Continental 
agent, and had the satisfaction of knowing that 
their cargoes — save one item — went to Wash- 
ington’s army at Cambridge. The exception was 
the store of canvas we found among the prize 
goods. This was used to furnish us with a new 
set of sails, and we were soon off to sea again. 


CHAPTER IX 

AN ASTONISHING OFFER 

Our first voyage had been of three days dura- 
tion, and we had captured two prizes of con- 
siderable value. Standing near Lieutenant Sal- 
ter, as we left the harbor for our second cruise, 
I remarked: 

‘‘A short and successful trip was ours before. 
Lieutenant Salter. What think you our fortune 
will be this time, sir! 

He smiled. ^‘WLo can tell. Master Dunn? 
This search for prizes is much like a lottery. 
We may quickly make a fine draw, as we did 
before, or we may get a blank. It^s even pos- 


127 


128 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


sible that we may cruise around for weeks, yes, 
this entire voyage, and yet return to port 
empty-handed. ’ ’ 

‘Ht^s not Captain Tucker’s luck to do that,” 
I protested stoutly. ‘‘He’s always made suc- 
cessful voyages, and I believe this will be no 
exception. We shall not go many days before 
we capture a craft. Remember what I tell 
you. ’ ’ 

“I presume you would like to see them com- 
ing so fast the Captain would find it hard work 
to make up prize-crews for them,” he respond- 
ed banteringly. Then he continued more earn- 
estly: “I agree with you. I believe Captain 
Tucker sails under a lucky star, and have no 
idea our trip is to be a fruitless one. ’ ’ 

He proved a true prophet. The very next 
day we took a prize — a sloop from Halifax, 
laden with dried fish, and bound for Boston. 
Though not of great value, it was in no sense 
to be despised, and to my own mind it was not 
unimportant. It meant so much less food for 
the enemy, and so much more for our brave 


In ship and prison 


129 


troops. With this thought predominant I 
raised a cheer as Boatswain Lewis, with a crew 
of four men, started for port in charge of her — 
a cheer which our entire ship ’s company joined 
in heartily. 

Then the prizes followed in rapid succession 
until we had nine to our credit, and our num- 
ber had been reduced three score to furnish 
crews for them. Among these were several of 
great value. 

It was just two weeks since we left port when 
we captured our tenth vessel, the brig White 
Swan, from the Western Islands for Boston, 
with a cargo of fruit and wine. I speak more 
particularly of this, for my own personal for- 
tunes were more intimately connected with it. 

We sighted the craft at early dawn, and im- 
mediately gave chase — and it was a long one. 
Heavy laden as she was, and with less than two- 
thirds of our spread of canvas, yet she was 
well nigh a match for us in sailing. We over- 
took her by inches. The sun was about to set 
when we sent a shot across her bow, and it had 


130 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


gone down when I returned from boarding her 
and reported her sailing port, her destination, 
her cargo, and the additional facts that she had 
a crew of twelve, and carried one passenger — 
a Master George Rollins. 

Captain Tucker kept her by the frigate all 
night. At daylight he transferred to her a score 
of prisoners that we had taken from other ves- 
sels, and, placing me in command with a crew 
of ten, he directed me to take her into Lynn. 
Master Rollins at his own request remained 
upon her, and with her captain shared the cabin 
with myself and Midshipman Thomas Blinn, 
who was my executive officer. 

We cleared from the Franklin about nine 
o’clock and started on our voyage of two hun- 
dred miles with high hopes. The brig was a 
staunch one, and, as I have already intimated, 
a fast sailer. Her cargo was valuable, and I 
felt what perhaps may be termed a natural ela- 
tion to be given the task of taking her into port. 
It is true I had a large number of prisoners 
between the decks, and two men under parole 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


131 


in the cabin, but I anticipated no trouble from 
them, and felt myself competent to fulfill the 
task assigned me faithfully. 

The day was cleai and cold. The wind was 
a favorable one, and we went ahead at a pace 
which would have delighted any sailor’s heart. 
In ten hours I estimated that we had covered 
nearly one-half the distance to port. Let the 
breeze only keep up and we should reach our 
haven before noon on the morrow. With much 
satisfaction I turned the watch over to Mid- 
shipman Blinn and went below. 

Inadvertently the room I occupied was be- 
tween that of Captain Williamson and Master 
Rollins, while Midshipman Blinn had one on the 
other side of the cabin. I had fallen asleep, but 
was awakened by some one trying to open my 
door. Fortunately, as it proved, I had fastened 
it on entering, and discovering this fact the in- 
truder passed on and gave a light tap at the 
door of Master Rollins. The next instant, as 
though the newcomer was expected, the door 
opened gently, and the man quietly entered. 


132 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


I suddenly remembered that when I stored 
my kit under my berth I had noticed a crack in 
the partition between the staterooms, and step- 
ping noiselessly out upon the floor I stooped 
down, pushed my bag to one side, and crawled 
in beside it. Placing my ear to the crack I was 
able to distinguish much that passed between 
Master Rollins and his visitor, though they con- 
versed in whispers. 

He was Captain Williamson, as I had sus- 
pected, and had evidently announced his failure 
to enter my room, for his companion was say- 
ing: 

‘Ht is too bad. Captain; so the first part of 
your plan fails. ’ ’ 

'‘Yes, and now I’ll try the second,” was the 
response. 

“You’ll need to proceed with great caution, 
for if discovered they’ll be likely to put you 
down with the other prisoners,” Master Rollins 
now warned him. 

“Yes,” the captain admitted, “but it’s worth 
the risk. If I can only crawl along to the hatch 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


133 


and open it, the vessel is onrs again. What we 
lack in weapons we shall make np in numbers, 
and can easily overpower the half dozen men 
on deck. Then Master Dunn down here and the 
men in the forecastle can be taken care of at 
our leisure.’^ 

shall stand by my agreement if you suc- 
ceed, Captain Williamson, and add a hundred 
pounds to the one I am to give you when you 
land me on the cape.’’ 

have no fear about that. Master Rollins. 
You have done always just as you promised, 
but I think this time I shall have earned it,” the 
officer commented, and turned to go. 

I waited until I had heard him pass my door, 
and ascend the ladder to the deck; then I 
slipped out of my room and hurried after him. 
But the moment my head was above the hatch- 
way I knew that his second plan had failed, for 
Midshipman Blinn had been on the alert, and 
detected his presence on deck. 

‘‘Wliat does this mean. Captain William- 
son?” he was demanding. ‘‘You know as well 


134 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


as I do that you were not to come on deck during 
the night hours. I must insist that you return 
to the cabin immediately, or I shall have to put 
you in the brig with your men.’^ 

For answer the captain did the most foolish 
thing he could have done under the circum- 
stances. He sprang upon the speaker, doubtless 
with the intention of throwing him down, and 
passing over him to the middle hatch. Perhaps 
he thought that with a quick rush he could 
reach it and let out the prisoners before the 
watch could prevent him. 

But he had underestimated the quickness and 
strength of Master Blinn. Leaping to one side, 
the Midshipman avoided his antagonist, and 
himself became the attacker instead of the at- 
tacked. Grappling the Englishman by the 
waist, he called loudly for his men to come to 
his aid. I sprang forward to assist him, but 
two of the watch were before me, and when I 
reached his side, the burly Captain was sub- 
dued. Two minutes later he was in the hold 
with the other prisoners. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


135 


I quickly acquainted my executive officer with 
what I had seen and heard in the cabin, and so 
explained how I came to be on the deck so 
promptly. Then I said warmly — forgetting all 
titles in my appreciation of Master Blinn^s good 
work: 

‘‘But I hardly was needed here, Tom. You 
were too alert for the Captain. No one could 
have done better. I shall make a full report of 
your part in this affair to Captain Tucker. ’ ’ 
“Thank you, Arthur,” he replied heartily, 
dropping into the same familiar strain. “But 
shall I go down after Master Rollins and put 
him in the brig!” 

“No, I think not, at least at present,” I re- 
plied. “I judge he is one who leaves the risky 
part of his schemes for someone else to do, and 
so we have nothing to fear in that direction. 
Still, we ^11 keep a sharp eye on him, and put 
him under arrest the moment we see any reason 
for doing so. Now I’ll go back to my room and 
finish out my watch below. ’ ’ 

I lay awake some time after reaching my 


136 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


berth, and heard onr passenger moving uneasily 
about his room. Once he cautiously opened his 
door, and looked out into the cabin, but he made 
no other attempt to investigate into the cap- 
tain’s whereabouts, so I went to sleep. 

At breakfast, however, he ventured to inquire 
if Captain Williamson was sick. 

“No,” I answered, “he was foolish enough 
last night to try to liberate the prisoners, but 
Midshipman Blinn was on the alert, and put 
him into the hold with them. ’ ’ 

He ate uneasily after that, and soon after, 
excusing himself, went back to his stateroom. 
Two hours later he sent for me, and, wonder- 
ing what this move on his part meant, I slipped 
a pistol into my pocket, and went down to see 
him. 

He closed the door of his room as soon as 
I was in it, and pushing a stool towards me, re- 
marked politely: 

“Sit down. Captain Dunn, I wish to have a 
little talk with you. ’ ’ 

“Very well,” I responded shortly. 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


137 


have a proposal to make,’’ he went on, 
blandly, ^^one that will be of great advantage 
to you personally.” 

I bowed, and waited for him to go on. 

have reasons,” he continued smoothly, 
‘Hor not wishing to land in any New England 
port. So I had arranged with Captain William- 
son to put me ashore in some retired spot on 
Cape Cod. I was to give him one hundred 
pounds in gold for doing this. The capture 
of the brig by your frigate has of course made 
it impossible for him to fulfill his contract. But 
if you will render me the same favor, I shall 
be glad to give you the same compensation. ’ ’ 

I thought a moment. There certainly was 
something strange in the man’s statement. It 
was clear he did not care to face the Continental 
authorities, and I could easily understand how 
there might be good reasons for that. But why 
he was equally anxious to avoid a port like 
Boston where the British were in control, for 
which the brig was making before her capture, 
I could not understand. Puzzle as I would over 


138 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


it I could not explain that. Hoping to draw him 
out, however, I now said : 

‘ AVhy not offer me the other hundred pounds 
you were going to give Captain Williamson if 
he recaptured the vessel P’ 

He stared at me in sheer amazement. Evi- 
dently how I came to know of this fact per- 
plexed him. But he finally replied: 

^‘Well, I will do it. Land me in a retired spot 
anywhere below Boston, and you shall have the 
two hundred pounds.” 

I laughed. ‘‘I couldn’t think of it for that 
amount,” I declared. ‘‘Captain Williamson 
could do it, and it was none of his crew’s busi- 
ness why he put you ashore in one place rather 
than in another. But here with me is another 
officer and ten seamen, any one of whom could 
report my act to Captain Tucker. I must have 
enough to buy their silence.” 

I said this to ascertain to what extent he was 
willing to go in order to secure his release, 
though I had no idea of accepting any terms he 
might propose. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


139 


^^True,’’ he responded hopefully. never 
thought of that. Well, you shall have one 
thousand pounds in gold for setting me ashore, 
and you may divide it up with your men as you 
please.’’ 

I was absolutely startled at this offer. Evi- 
dently the whole matter was a more serious one 
than I had imagined. Wlioever Master Rollins 
was, he was too important a personage to be 
allowed to go. But to keep up the farce a little 
longer I managed to query: 

‘^But how do I know you have got so much 
money at your command! That is a big sum. 
Master Rollins.” 

His face flushed — in anger, I thought, at my 
insinuation that he might not be able to pay me 
the sum named. If so, he conquered himself, 
for in an instant he said haughtily: 

forget that you do not know me. Captain 
Dunn. But you shall see for yourself,” and 
pulling out two small leather cases from under 
his berth he threw them open, removed a few 
garments, and then exclaimed: 


140 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


‘‘Look!^^ 

I did look with bulging eyes. In one were 
coins of gold — guineas, nobles, sovereigns — 
hundreds of them ; in the other there were coins 
of silver — crowns, half-crowns, and farthings 
even more numerous. 

‘‘I have five thousand pounds there, he de- 
clared, and I did not doubt him. 

But who was this strange man? An army 
paymaster? No, or he would have been glad 
to have gone into Boston — unless he was ab- 
sconding with the money which was to pay the 
ivages of the British soldiers. Like a flash the 
thought came to me. The usual place for a pay- 
master was on a frigate, surrounded by a force 
that could convey him to his destination beyond 
all question. But if he was trying to make off 
with the money, what was more natural than 
for him to take passage from England to the 
Azores, and from there to America where he 
would wish to avoid both British and Con- 
tinental authorities. In fact, the more quietly 
he could slip into the country, the better. I was 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


141 


sure I had found the true explanation why he 
made his strange proposal — his tremendous 
offer. But that was a matter the Continental 
authorities could settle. My duty was clear. It 
was to guard the man and his money every 
moment until we reached port and I had turned 
him over to the proper tribunal. This decision 
reached, I said quietly: 

am satisfied, Master Rollins. Close up 
your boxes, and put them back under the 
berth. ’ ’ 

He did so, and then remarked: ^‘You see I 
can pay you the amount promised. Captain 
Dunn, large as it is.’^ 

^‘Certainly, sir,’’ I admitted, ‘‘but come now 
with me. ’ ’ 

Without hesitation he followed me into the 
cabin. 

“Close and lock your door,” I now directed, 
and he complied, but in a way that showed he 
was a little puzzled by my commands. 

“Now come in here,” I continued, throwing 
open the door of what had been Captain Will- 


142 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


iamson’s room, and stepping back to allow him 
to enter first. He did so reluctantly, and no 
sooner was he well within the room than he 
turned upon me asking : 

‘‘What does this mean. Captain DnunP’ 

“This,’’ I explained, drawing my pistol from 
my pocket and holding it so it was ready for 
instant use. “Yon are evidently too important 
a personage to be allowed to escape in any way, 
Master Rollins. I shall keep yon in here under 
guard until we are safe in port, and yon have 
been turned over to the Continental authorities. 
They shall decide who you are, and to whom 
your gold and silver rightly belongs. Meantime 
you have the satisfaction of knowing it is locked 
up and the key is in your pocket. It shall not 
be touched until you yourself open the door for 
the men to whom I am responsible.” And with 
these words I stepped back into the cabin, and 
closing the door locked him in. Five minutes 
thereafter an armed sailor stood before the 
door, nor was it without a guard for a single 
moment until we reached Lynn. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


143 


With strict instructions to Midshipman Blinn 
to take good care of Master Rollins until I re- 
turned, I hurried on shore and visited the Con- 
tinental agent. Reporting the prize, I then ac- 
quainted him with the astonishing discovery I 
had made, and my own surmise about the 
mysterious passenger. 

‘‘We will soon know,’’ he declared after hear- 
ing my story, ‘ ‘ and let me add, too. Midshipman 
Dunn, you have handled this whole matter with 
much discretion and have proved that your love 
of country is superior to British gold,” and he 
shook my hand warmly. 

He returned with me to the brig. First, he 
had an interview with Master Rollins, who soon 
broke down under his sharp questioning, and 
made a full confession. 

He was Major Ralph Walker, and a pay- 
master in the British army. Entrusted with the 
five thousand pounds to pay off the soldiers in 
Boston, he had run away with the money and 
sailed for the Azores. There he had secured 


144 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


passage on the brig, and made his arrangements 
with her captain to slip quietly into the colonies, 
where he hoped under an assumed name to 
enjoy his ill-gotten wealth. 

His confession finished, he willingly opened 
the door of his stateroom, and delivered all his 
personal effects to the Continental official. 
Among his baggage were found papers fully 
substantiating the story he had told. 

The decision of the agent was quickly given. 
The circumstances under which the man had 
been apprehended made no difference. He was 
a British officer, and therefore a legitimate pris- 
oner of war ; the money he carried was British 
property, and therefore a legitimate prize; an 
opinion sustained by the entire naval committee 
a few weeks later. So the five thousand pounds 
sterling, added to the value of the brig and her 
cargo, made her capture the most valuable prize 
our frigate had yet taken. 

I never saw Master Eollins, or Major Walker, 
as I should call him, again. But I heard some 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


145 


months later that he had been liberated on 
parole, and had disappeared. Probably he 
went to some part of the colonies where he was. 
unknown, and there began life anew, though in 
poverty instead of in wealth as he had planned. 


CHAPTEE X 

WE CAPTURE A FRIGATE 

My orders had been to remain in port with 
my crew nntil the Franklin arrived, as Captain 
Tucker, at the time I left him, expected to bring 
in his next prize. He did, but it was two weeks 
before he came. The prize he brought was a 
good one, however, and well worth his fortnight 
of waiting. It was a brig from Cork, Ireland, 
bound to Boston with a cargo of beef, pork, but- 
ter and coal. There had been a little rumor con- 
nected with her capture, which Lieutenant 
Fettyplace told me about soon after his arrival. 

The vessel was sighted just before she entered 


146 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


147 


Massachusetts Bay, and a chase began. But 
no sooner did she find our frigate was after her 
than she turned and came down to meet her. 
When near enough she signalled that her cap- 
tain would like to come on board but had no 
boat, all having been swept from the deck in a 
recent gale, as was afterwards explained. So 
Captain Tucker sent a yawl after him. 

He soon arrived, a short, fat, jolly Irishman. 
Bowing low before our commander upon reach- 
ing our deck, he began: 

Faith, yer honor, I’m glad to see ye. IVe 
been standin’ off an’ on here for two weeks now 
lookin’ for the likes of ye. • I’m Jeremiah 
O’Brien, Capt’n of the brig Blackfriar, from 
Cork for Boston, with vittles for the British 
army. But I’ve got me pay safe in me pocket, 
sir, an’ not a snap cares I if me whole cargo 
falls into your hands. Nor is that jest the truth, 
yer honor. I do care. I’d rather ye Yankees, 
as ye are called, would ate the vittles while every 
mother’s son of those red-coated spalpeens in 
Boston go hungry. So, if ye please to tell me 


148 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


where ye wish me to sail, me men and I’ll be- 
come a prize-crew an’ take the brig into port. 
Or if ye’re ’fraid to trust me, pint ye own craft 
for the harbor, an’ we’ll follow in yer wake. 
What’s the course, sir?” and with another low 
bow he waited for Captain Tucker to speak. 

‘^This is most extraordinary, sir,” our skip- 
per said coldly. ‘‘Pray may I ask what you 
expect for this betrayal of your trust?” 

“There’s no betrayal of trust, yer honor,” 
he returned somewhat hotly. “I told me ship- 
owners I wouldn’t sail the brig over to the colo- 
nies for them without my pay straight down 
for the entire voyage, an’ that I was no coward 
an’ shouldn’t run away from any armed vessel 
that gave me chase, however big it was, but that 
they must run the risk of my capture. I’m a 
man of my word, sir. Ye began to chase me, 
an’ not a bit did I run from ye. Here I am 
standing boldly on your deck, though at the risk 
of losin’ me brig. Wliat’s the odds, sir? If I 
don’t give ye the vessel, ye’ll take her, so she’s 
yours under either circumstance. An’ do ye 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


149 


ask what I expect ? It the privilege of enlistin ’ 
in yer navy soon as I'm in port, sir, where I can 
do my best to feed yer Yankee soljers by cap- 
turin' just such craft as that," and he waved 
his hand towards the Blackfriar, while our men 
broke into a cheer. 

The outcome of this singular interview was 
that Captain O'Brien and his crew actually 
sailed the brig into Lynn, following in the wake 
of the Franklin; and soon after she arrived 
there her commander entered our navy as a 
lieutenant and did loyal service for the colonies. 

The frigate sailed again within a few days, 
but we did not go with her. By ^^we" I mean 
Captain Tucker and myself. Two or three days 
after his arrival in port the Captain was notified 
that he was to be transferred to the Hancock. 
He was kind enough to request that I also be 
transferred, a request that was promptly 
granted. 

This transfer was for both of us a promotion, 
at least we so regarded it ; a promotion for Cap- 
tain Tucker, for the Hancock, though schooner 


150 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


rigged, was larger than the Franklin, and car- 
ried eight more guns and fifty more men ; a pro- 
motion for myself, for thongh I still held only a 
midshipman’s commission, I was the senior 
officer in my rank, and on the new vessel was 
assigned to the duties of a third-Iientenant, and 
received a third lieutenant’s pay. Our first 
officer was Lieutenant Richard Stiles, and our 
second Lieutenant Nicholas Ogilby. 

We left port May 9th (1776), and ran up the 
coast for our first cruise. For a time the good 
fortune that had attended us when on the frig- 
ate seemed to desert us. Instead of running in 
with a prize immediately we sailed north as 
far as Cape Race without even catching sight 
of one. In fact it was not until we had turned 
our bow homeward that we discovered anything 
to chase. Then we ran in with the ship Peggy 
which eventually became ours, and proved to be 
the most valuable vessel and cargo we had 
taken. I say eventually became ours, for there 
were circumstances connected with her capture 
as singular as interesting. 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


151 


We sighted her in the latitude of Halifax — 
just after she had left port as it afterward 
proved — and sailed down towards her. Soon 
we were near enough to see she carried eight 
guns, and had a score or more of men on her 
deck. While we watched a flag was run up to 
her peak, and under the glass we made out that 
it was similar to the one flying at our masthead 
— at least there was a pine tree upon it. 

‘^She must be an American privateer,” re- 
marked Lieutenant Stiles when Captain Tucker 
announced this fact. 

‘ ‘ Then why does she set so low in the water ? ’ ’ 
the Captain queried. ‘‘There must be a heavy 
cargo between her decks for her to settle down 
like that.” 

“Perhaps she has taken some prize and for 
some reason transferred its cargo to her own 
hold,” suggested Lieutenant Ogilby. 

“It is possible, of course,” admitted Captain 
Tucker. “We will run up and speak with her.” 

She was so heavily loaded we had no diffi- 
culty in overhauling her, and to Captain Tuck- 


152 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


er’s hail: ‘^On board ship! Who are you!’’ 
there came the prompt answer: ^‘American 
privateer Peggy^ from Machias, Captain Ed- 
ward Saunders. Wlio are you!” 

‘‘Continental schooner of war Hancock, Cap- 
tain Samuel Tucker, on a cruise.” 

“I have heard of you, Captain Tucker, and 
a^m now glad to see you,” shouted the skipper 
of the Peggy. “Wish I was near enough to 
shake hands with you. Hope you are having 
your usual good luck in securing prizes.” 

“Thanks ! but we have run .in with nothing on 
this cruise,” said our commander. “But judg- 
ing by the draught of your vessel. Captain 
Saunders, you have had a better fortune.” 

“Yes,” was the response. “We captured a 
brig yesterday. But the shot we meant to send 
across her bow struck her in the water line. 
We had only time to transfer her cargo to our 
own hold, when she went down. We are now 
in no condition for a chase and so are home- 
ward bound.” 


‘ ‘ A safe voyage home ! ’ ’ 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


153 


‘‘The same to you!’’ 

And then we sheered off and ran out to sea, 
while the privateer kept on down the coast. 
Two days later we were below the Seal Islands 
when our lookout reported a sail dead aliead 
of us. 

‘ ‘ AVhat does she look like ! ’ ’ asked Lieutenant 
Stiles, who at that time was in charge of the 
deck. 

“Blast me, sir! She looks all the world like 
that ship Peggy/’ was the old salt’s ejaculation. 
“Only whoever she is, she’s flying the British 
flag. ’ ’ 

I was sent aloft with my glass to see if I could 
make her out, but could only confirm the report 
of the lookout. 

“Keep your eye on her. Master Dunn,” the 
lieutenant directed. “We’ll run down nearer 
to her.” 

In a half-hour I called out : 

“She is certainly the ship Peggy, but she is 
carrying the English colors. No ! there she runs 
them down, and is hoisting the Pine Tree flag 


154 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


in their place. Can it be she has changed them 
because she has discovered we are following 
herr^ 

‘Ht looks that way, Midshipman Dunn,’’ the 
officer assented. ^ H ’ll report the matter to Cap- 
tain Tucker.” 

He immediately came on deck, climbed up to 
the cross-trees, and, taking the glass from my 
hand, looked long and searchingly at the dis- 
tant sail, and then said: 

There is something strange about this. 
Master Dunn. She is far south of her home 
port. We’ll overhaul her again, and look at her 
papers.” 

In another hour we were in hailing distance, 
and Captain Tucker shouted: 

^‘Ahoy, there, privateer Peggy! How comes 
it we find you down here ? ’ ’ 

^‘We have decided to run down to Ports- 
mouth,” the voice of Captain Saunders 
answered. 

‘‘Heave to! I must have a look at your 
papers,” our commander then announced. 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


155 


‘^That’s all right. I’ll bring them over at 
once,” was the ready response. 

Then the Peggy hove to ; a boat was put out, 
and Captain Saunders came over to us. Greet- 
ing him politely. Captain Tucker led him down 
to the cabin. Then his visitor handed his papers 
to him. The Captain passed them on to me as 
his secretary, saying: ^^Look them over. Mid- 
shipman Dunn ; ’ ’ then entered into conversation 
with his guest. 

I went carefully through the documents. 
They were regularly made out, and there was 
not the slightest reason for doubting the 
Peggy^s claim to be an American privateer. 

‘ ‘ The papers are all right, sir, ’ ’ I announced, 
‘Hhough I would rather you would pass judg- 
ment upon them.” 

He smiled, and taking them glanced at them. 
Then he said to Captain Saunders : 

‘‘Pardon me, sir, for putting you to all this 
trouble. But you know the enemy is now using 
all sorts of means to deceive us, and we have to 


156 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


follow out our merest suspicions if we do not 
want to be outwitted.” 

‘‘That is so, Captain Tucker,” his visitor 
responded. “I know something about that my- 
self. You don’t feel very well to find they have 
made a fool of you. But you are a sharp one. 
Captain. It will take a smart man to get the 
best of you. No apology, however, is necessary 
for delaying me. Really, I’m glad to have made 
you this brief visit,” and he arose to depart. 

In a few minutes the vessels for the second 
time parted company. 

wonder why the Captain did not ask him 
about his flying the English flag,” I remarked 
to Lieutenant Ogilby, to whom I had been rela- 
ting what had occurred in the cabin. 

‘ ‘ He must have forgotten it, ’ ’ that officer said. 

‘‘Oh, the papers being straight, he doubtless 
thought it none of his business,” chimed in 
Lieutenant Stiles, who joined us at that mo- 
ment. 

Three days later we were off Cape Cod when 
our lookout again called out : 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


157 


‘‘Ship in sight, sir, two points ofl our star- 
board quarter.’’ 

“Not the ship Peggy this time is it, Jake!” 
inquired Lieutenant Stiles, for again he hap- 
pened to be in charge of the deck, while the same 
old salt was in the cross-trees. 

“Yes, sir,” was the unexpected response. 
“Ship Peggy, that is what she is, sir; and she 
has the British flag at her peak, and is sailin’ 
to round the cape. Guess she’s goin’ to New 
York this time, sir.” 

Lieutenant Stiles went up the mast at a 
bound, and gazed at the sail through his glass 
for some minutes. Then he came down as rap- 
idly as he had gone up, and said to me as he 
passed on his way to the cabin : 

“It’s she. Master Dunn, and she’s changed 
her flag again now that she has discovered our 
approach. ’ ’ 

He returned in a moment with Captain 
' Tucker, who was as excited as himself. The 
look on my face as I glanced at him led him to 


158 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


stop abruptly and ask: ^AVhat do you think 
of her, Master DunnP’ 

^^That she is a British merchantman, bound 
for New York, with a cargo so valuable she is 
taking extraordinary means to prevent capture. 
She has double papers, sir, and has shown only 
the false ones to us.” 

‘ ‘ I think you have struck the nail on the head 
this time,” he declared. ‘^But if we again 
overhaul her, she won’t outwit us again.” 

Possibly her captain was of a similar opinion, 
for he did his best to keep out of our clutches. 
It was clear he did not relish a third interview 
with Captain Tucker. 

It was, however, inevitable. Gradually we 
came up with the craft, and a shot from our 
bow-chaser brought her to. 

^ ‘ Take the yawl and ten men with you. Lieu- 
tenant Stiles, and send Captain Saunders over 
here, no matter how much he may protest, while 
you remain there and make a thorough search 
of his cabin. Find everything you can to throw 



“ Master Dunn, you are my prisoner.” 


<P- 97) 



IN SHIP AND PRISON 


159 


light on the ship ’s real character, ’ ’ was Captain 
Tncker^s command. 

‘‘Aye, aye, sir,’’ the officer responded in a 
tone that showed he relished the order; and I 
confess I almost envied him his assignment. 

In fifteen minutes Captain Saunders was on 
our deck, angrily declaring that Captain Tuck- 
er’s procedure was an outrage. At that mo- 
ment my arm was pulled by Bill Nye, an old 
sailor. 

J‘I ax yer pardon, sir,” he said in a loud 
whisper, “but that ain’t Capt’n Saunders, it’s 
Captain John Linscot of Halifax. I’se sailed 
with him more’n once to the West Indies.” 

“Come with me, Bill!” I said, leading him 
aft. 

Reaching the two captains I announced : 

‘ ‘ Captain Tucker, here ’s a man who wishes to 
throw a little light on the question you are try- 
ing to settle.” 

“What is it. Bill?” the Captain inquired, 
while his prisoner suddenly stopped talking and 
stared at the old sailor. 


160 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


only wishes to say, sir, that I know that 
man. I’se sailed more’n once with him. He’s 
Capt’n John Linscot of Halifax.” 

‘ ‘ Man, yon are mistaken, ’ ’ thundered the dis- 
comfited skipper. 

‘‘We shall soon know,” Captain Tucker re- 
marked quietly. “Lieutenant Stiles is return- 
ing.” 

A minute or two later the yawl touched the 
schooner’s side, and the executive officer, leap- 
ing to her deck, crossed over to where the cap- 
tain was standing. Saluting him he reported: 

‘ ‘ I find, sir, that yonder ship is not an Amer- 
ican privateer, but an English merchantman 
from London to Halifax, where she changed 
captains and then sailed for New York. She 
has a cargo of muskets, pistols, ammunition, and 
army supplies inventoried at fifteen thousand 
poimds sterling.” 

As he closed his report the English captain 
laughed. 

“I admit it. Captain Tucker. I knew you 
were cruising off our coast, and prepared those 


m SHIP AND PRISON 


161 


privateer papers to outwit you, and succeeded 
twice. I could hardly expect to do it a third 
time. I congratulate you, sir, on taking the 
finest prize that is likely to be on these seas this 
season.’^ 

can afford to be as magnanimous, and con- 
fess that you are the smartest Englishman I 
ever met,” pur commander responded. 

^ ‘ I told you at our last interview that it took 
a smart man to outwit you,” the Britisher re- 
torted, ^‘but I don’t feel as smart as I did 
then. ’ ’ 

A hearty laugh followed and the rival cap- 
tains shook hands. Then a large prize crew 
was put on board the Peggy ^ and, under the es- 
cort of the Hancock, for she was too great a 
treasure to send into port alone, she sailed for 
Lynn. 

In a week we were at sea again, and a rich 
series of captures followed. Between that time 
and the next spring we took forty vessels, 
many of them with valuable cargoes. 

Then came a prize, the thought of which 


162 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


makes my blood tingle even to this day. We 
had been into Salem with prizes. Soon after 
getting out to sea we caught sight of a distant 
sail. On approaching her we discovered by her 
tier of guns that she was an English frigate — 
much larger than the Hancock. Undismayed, 
Captain Tucker turned to his executive officer, 
saying : 

‘‘Crowd on all sail. Lieutenant Stiles. The 
sooner we can close in with that fellow the bet- 
ter.’^ 

When this command had been obeyed, he con- 
tinued : 

“Have the drum beat all hands to quarters. 
I wish to address them.’^ 

When we were in place, he said: 

‘ ‘ Men of the Hancock! I suspect yonder frig- 
ate is the FoXj which for some weeks has been 
scourging our shores. As you see, she is larger 
than we are, and carries twelve more guns. I 
shall not therefore enter into a cannon duel 
with her. I shall put our vessel alongside of 
her and board her. The moment we touch sides 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


163 


I wish three different parties to be ready to leap 
upon her deck — one forward, one aft, and one 
amidships. Midshipman Dunn is to lead the 
first. Lieutenant Ogilby the second, and Lieuten- 
ant Magee, commander of the marines, the 
third. 

Noticing that the latter officer seemed to hesi- 
tate, as though he would decline the desperate 
office, he turned to him, saying with a smile: 

‘‘If you prefer, sir, you may take my place 
here, and I will lead the boarders, for she must 
be taken. ’ ’ 

“No,’’ replied the gallant young officer, “I 
will go and do my best, and if I fall, will you 
send these to my only sister*?” and he handed 
the captain a ring, a watch, and a miniature. 

In a few minutes, by a sudden and rapid 
change of the helm — for in nautical manoeuver- 
ing Captain Tucker was unsurpassed by any 
officer in the infant navy — he laid our vessel 
alongside of the frigate, gun to gun, and before 
a shot could be fired, or a piece of ordnance 
brought to bear upon us, he threw his grappling 


164 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


irons upon her gunwale, and our boarding part- 
ies poured down upon her deck. 

I can give you little idea of the terrific hand 
to hand conflict that now took place. I was a 
part of the battle, not a spectator of it. 'But I 
know that the intrepid Magee fell in the onset. 
Heading his band of marines, he leaped the bul- 
wark, but scarcely had his feet touched the deck 
of the enemy before he was assailed by num- 
bers and a sword pierced his breast. 

But his death was not unavenged. Captain 
Tucker, seeing him fall, leaped like a lion into 
his place, and with his stalwart arm cut down 
all before him. Having made an open way 
across the deck for his men, he rallied them into 
two lines, back to back, and fought his oppo- 
nents in both directions, forward and aft. 

Meantime I had reached my position with my 
division and we drove all on the bow back to 
meet the dauntless Captain, while Lieutenant 
Ogilby and his men, charging the quarter-deck, 
drove the enemy forward against our command- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


165 


er’s second line drawn up to receive them. In 
this way we soon swept the deck, and the frigate 
struck her colors. Three rotising cheers from 
our brave men proclaimed the victory. 


CHAPTER XI 

A DISTINGUISHED PASSENGER ON BOARD 

I come now to an incident about which I love- 
to write. It was the Christmas present given 
Captain Tucker the following December (1777). 
This was the brand new frigate Boston. She 
was presented to him in Boston, and named for 
that town. She carried twenty-four guns and 
one hundred and seventy-five men, beside her 
company of marines, and in her equipment sur- 
passed any other vessel in commission at that 
time. 

But not only was the vessel given the Cap- 
tain ; he was also given the privilege of selecting 


166 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


167 


all of his commissioned officers. It took him a 
month to complete the list. Our three lieuten- 
ants were Henry Phips, Hezekiah Welch and 
Benjamin Bates, ranking in the order they are 
named. We had five midshipmen, of whom I 
held the senior rank. The second was Thomas 
Blinn, who had been with us on the Franklin 
and who was appointed to the new frigate at 
my request. The other three were new men to 
us, but gallant fellows who had given a good ac- 
count of themselves on other vessels. They 
were William Day, Edward Eades, and Thomas 
LeMoyne. 

Our master of arms was William Baker from 
the Hancock; and one of our boatswains was 
also an old friend, Joseph Lewis from the 
Franklin. I believe all the rest of our officers 
and crew were new men. We had a chaplain, 
Eev. Benjamin Balch, and a surgeon. Dr. 
Thomas Burns. The officers of our marines 
were Captain Seth Boxter, First Lieutenant 
Jeremiah Eeed, Second Lieutenant William 
Cooper, and Sergeant Benjamin Newhall. I 


168 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


speak of these ditferent officers here so that 
when they are hereafter alluded to in this nar- 
rative the reader may have a clear idea of their 
place on shipboard. 

From the 'hour we went on board the Boston 
we had the feeling that she was to be assigned 
to some important mission. No one had said 
so, yet among the officers and crew alike there 
was a feeling of expectancy. Perhaps it was 
the newness of the vessel, her fine equipment, 
the special care taken in selecting her men and 
putting in of her stores that gave rise to this 
impression. 

We went on board of the craft December 27th. 
The new year came, a month passed, but still we 
waited. The first of February an incident oc- 
curred which led us to believe the time of our 
sailing was drawing near. A new banner ar- 
rived for the frigate — the flag adopted by the 
American Congress and destined to be known 
ere long the world over as the emblem of liberty 
— the stars and stripes. Amid the cheers of our 
men it was unfurled from our masthead, and as 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


169 


in the case of the Pine Tree banner on the 
Franklin, so now it was my own hand that 
pulled the rope that set the bunting free. 

Nine days later Captain Tucker was sum- 
moned before the Chairman of the Naval Com- 
mittee. I now know what took place at that 
interview, and will relate it here. 

‘^Sir,^^ the official said, ‘^you are directed by 
the American Congress to receive the Honor- 
able J ohn Adams upon your frigate and convey 
him as a special envoy to France. I am also 
instructed to add that in some way the object 
of this mission to France has become known to 
the enemy and they have already sent a British 
seventy-four and two other frigates up from 
Newport to keep watch over this harbor and 
prevent if possible the departure of the vessel 
which is to carry the envoy. To escape a force 
so vigilant and formidable, and to avoid the 
numerous men of war which infest the track 
across the Atlantic, requires an officer of con- 
summate skill and intrepidity. Congress has 
full confidence in you, and for that reason has 


170 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


chosen yon commander of the vessel which is to 
perform this mission. In this document are 
your orders in detail, which we shall expect you 
to execute to the letter,” and he handed the 
paper to the Captain, who, receiving it, replied : 

assure you, sir, and the other members of 
the Naval Committee, that I appreciate the 
honor conferred upon me, and shall endeavor 
to the best of my ability to merit the confidence 
you repose in me. If for any reason I fail to 
reach the assigned port with my distinguished 
passenger, it will not be because I have been un- 
faithful to my trust.” 

On the 16th day of the month Master Adams 
was received on board of the Boston with all 
the honors of his high position ; and on the 17th, 
at seven P. M., we weighed anchor at the Nan- 
tasket Roads, and proceeded to sea, with the 
stripes and stars waving to a fine northwestern 
breeze, and with the firing of a salute of seven 
guns. 

At the beginning of the log-book of that voy- 
age, which now lies before me, are the words 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


171 


written in Captain Tucker’s own hand: ^^Pray 
God conduct me safe to France, and send me a 
prosperous voyage.” This brief but all in- 
clusive prayer was granted, but not without 
some mishaps, and some occasions for doubt 
and fear. 

Our departure at nightfall had been pur- 
posely arranged to slip by the watching frigates 
at the mouth of the bay under the cover of the 
darkness. Without a light we moved swiftly 
down the harbor, and when below Long Island 
were able to make out the lights of the three 
English vessels, a mile or two apart, and sailing 
to and fro in a way to intercept any craft that 
might attempt to leave the haven by the usual 
routes. 

The seventy-four was farthest north, and her 
great draught prevented her from running 
within two miles of the shore. Captain Tucker, 
who stood near the helm, was quick to notice 
this fact, and gave orders to sail the Boston 
between the great frigate and the land. Pos- 
sibly the Britisher was not expecting a vessel so 


172 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


large as the Boston to take this course, and so 
kept no special lookout in that direction; or it 
may be that the absence of lights rendered our 
ship invisible at that distance in the darkness. 
For some reason we made the passage in safety, 
and in an hour were well out to sea. 

In some way, however, the enemy must have 
learned of our departure for on the 19th at six 
P. M., we saw three large ships to the east of us, 
bearing the British flag and concluded that they 
were the ones watching especially for us. Cap- 
tain Tucker at once gave orders for our frigate 
to haul away to the south-west, and so far as we 
were able to detect in the darkness we were not 
pursued. Early the next morning the captain 
called all of his commissioned officers into con- 
sultation, and, as the enemy were nowhere in 
sight, it was decided to return to our original 
course. We had run but an hour to the north- 
ward, however, when we caught sight of two of 
the pursuing frigates — one of twenty guns, the 
other, like ourselves, of twenty-four guns. But 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


173 


almost immediately the man at the masthead 
called out: 

‘ ^ Ship of war on onr weather quarter, sir ! ” 

In a short time we were confident it was the 
English seventy-four. This settled the fact that 
our enemies were both persistent and vigilant, 
and would intercept us if they could. 

Another consultation was therefore held to 
which Master Adams was invited, and our situ- 
ation was freely discussed. Not knowing how 
fast the Boston would sail, it was concluded to 
stand away again for the southwest, and at ten 
A. M., we wore ship and proceeded in that direc- 
tion. The three Britishers promptly changed 
their courses, and pursued us. 

At noon we had lost sight of the smaller ves- 
sel ; at two 0 ’clock we set our fore and maintop 
mast steering sail, and soon found we were leav- 
ing the other vessels behind. At six we had lost 
sight of them in the darkness. 

An anxious night followed. We were running 
at the rate of seven knots an hour, and we had 
reason to believe that the other vessels were 


174 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


making as good a pace. Would they continue 
on their present course throughout the night! 
If so, could we not by dropping otf a point or 
two throw them off our track! These and sim- 
ilar questions arose in the mind not only of our 
commander, but also in the minds of all of our 
officers. 

Double watches were kept on the deck. Cap- 
tain Tucker never left it. For three hours we 
held to the course we had been following before 
nightfall. Then we fell off a little, though it re- 
duced our speed to six knots. We ran on the 
new course for another three hours, and then to 
our chagrin our lookout reported the lights of 
a large ship almost directly ahead of us. It was 
evident that while we had shaken off the smaller 
frigate, the seventy-four was still on our trail. 

We could not weather her on our present 
course, so we hove in stays and stood to the 
westward. She followed us. For an hour or 
two we held to the new direction, then we sud- 
denly hove in stays again, and passed her to the 
windward, and about four miles off. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


175 


But she detected the movement, and changing 
her own course, continued to chase us. Again 
tacking ship, we soon had the satisfaction of 
knowing we had at last struck a course in which 
the Boston was distancing her enemy, and when 
morning dawned she was out of sight, and we 
saw no further trace of her. 

But barely had we escaped one danger when 
we ran in with another. A north-east gale swept 
down upon us, and for nine days we battled with 
wind and rain and sleet and snow, and were 
compelled at times to heave to, and at other 
times to sheer around and run before the storm. 
I do not think we gained a hundred miles on our 
way during the tempest. 

Then came gentle breezes from the south, the 
temperature moderated, the snow and ice that 
had encased us disappeared, and we made fair 
progress towards our destination. 

One day during this spring-like weather, we 
sighted a vessel to the south-east, which was 
standing to the west. We changed our course 
to intercept her, and in a short time were able 


176 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


to make out that she was a large merchantman, 
carrying twelve guns. 

There was no question but that she also saw 
us ; and seeing us, she must have known that we 
were larger than she, and mounted two guns to 
her one. Yet she made no attempt to escape us, 
or, for that matter, to come up with us. She 
simply kept on her way. When a lUtle nearer, 
however, we noticed that her plucky commander 
was preparing himself for an attack. All hands 
had been piped to their stations. His guns were 
being shotted, and made ready for firing. His 
attitude said as plainly as words: ‘‘Let me 
alone, and I’ll let you alone. But if you attack 
me, you’ll find me ready. I shall defend myself 
to the best of my ability. ’ ’ Though we had not 
yet spoken a word with him, he inspired us with 
a feeling of profoundest respect. 

Had we been without our distinguished pas- 
senger, we should have hastened to the attack. 
But our first duty was to care for his safety, 
though there had been nothing in Captain Tuck- 
er ’s orders to prevent him from taking a prize 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


177 


if she fell in his way. Confident that the ship 
ahead of him must contain a valuable cargo, or 
she would not be so heavily armed, our com- 
mander felt it would be a grave mistake to allow 
her to pass unmolested. Yet he would not as- 
sume the responsibility of attempting her cap- 
ture alone. He therefore called Master Adams 
and his officers into council, frankly stating his 
wish to seize the magnificent ship now in sight. 

Master Adams was the first to speak when he 
had stated the case : 

‘‘If I were not here. Captain Tucker,’’ he 
said, “you would not hesitate at all in making 
the attack, would you?” 

“Not an instant,” acknowledged the captain. 

“Then consider that I am not here, and go 
ahead,” continued the brave envoy. “I agree 
with you that yonder vessel must have a fine 
cargo, or she would not take along twelve guns 
and at least two score men to protect it. If so 
valuable to her government, it is more valuable 
to us. We should not miss the opportunity to 
make it ours.” 


178 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


That settled the matter, and instantly the 
frigate was alive with activity. The men were 
drummed to their stations ; the reefs were 
shaken out of our top-sails ; the guns were made 
ready for action; the marines were drawn up 
amidships ready to rake the deck of the enemy 
with their muskets ; and away we dashed in pur- 
suit of the craft. 

Having executed my last order, I paused a 
moment to glance about me. What a fine ap- 
pearance the frigate made when ready for bat- 
tle ! How earnest and reliant our men seemed ! 
For an instant I was lost in admiration of the 
scene, and then my attention was diverted. I 
saw Master Adams seize a musket, and take his 
place with the marines. Evidently he was going 
to take part in the fray. But the Captain dis- 
covered him a little later, and stepping up to 
him and placing his hand on his shoulder, he 
said with a voice of authority : 

‘‘Master Adams, I am commanded by the 
Continental Congress to deliver you safe in 
France, and you must go below, sir. ^ ’ 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


179 


Master Adams smiled, and went down to the 
cabin, but with such evident reluctance our men 
broke into a cheer. 

By this time we were well up with the ship, 
and our skipper by one of those quick manoeuv- 
ers for which he was noted put his own vessel 
into the position he desired. His guns were 
ready, his men were at their posts, the match 
stocks were smoking and yet he hesitated to 
give the order to fire. At this delay the crew 
grew impatient, and, seeing so fine a chance to 
strike a fatal blow passing, they began to mur- 
mur. Then Captain Tucker cried out in a loud 
voice : 

‘ ‘ Hold on, my men ! I wish to save that egg 
without breaking the shell ! ’ ’ 

Nor were they compelled to hold on long, for 
the commander of the merchantman, plucky as 
he was, saw the advantageous position our frig- 
ate was in, and how desperate his own chance 
was, and so he struck his colors without our 
firing a gun. 



CHAPTER XII 

TO HALIFAX PKISON 

Ten minutes after her flag was run down I 
was upon her deck with a prize crew. Midship- 
man Blinn was with me, and I soon sent him 
back to the frigate with a report that gave both 
officers and crew much satisfaction. The prize 
was the ship Martha, Captain Peter McIntosh, 
bound from London to New York with a cargo 
of provisions, stores, and merchandise, valued 
at eighty thousand pounds sterling. The crew 
consisted of thirty-nine officers and men, and 
there were five passengers, making a total of 
forty-four. 


180 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


181 


Master Blinn returned in a short time with 
an order from Captain Tucker, putting me in 
temporary charge of the vessel, and directing 
me to first send her crew and passengers to the 
Boston for safe keeping, and then, since it was 
nearly night, to tack ship and follow the frigate 
on her course until morning. 

At dawn a change was made in my ship’s 
company. Midshipman Blinn was recalled to 
the Boston, and Midshipman LeMoyne was sub- 
stituted in his place, to act as my executive. 
Philip Mohyes, a quartermaster, was also sent 
over to be my second officer. With him came six 
new men, increasing my crew to fifteen. Master 
LeMoyne brought with him the following letter : 

^^On board the Boston Frigate. 

March the 11th, 1778. 

To Midshipman Arthur Dunn : 

Gentleman — You are now appointed to the 
command of the ship Martha. I desire you 
would make the best of your way to Boston, run- 
ning up your longitude in 37° north as far as 
68° west. Be careful to avoid all vessels you 


182 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


may see, keeping a man at the masthead from 
daybreak until dark, and if you should be so un- 
fortunate as to be taken, destroy my letters with 
your signals. If you go safe, lodge my signals 
at the Navy Board, not showing them to your 
nearest friend. Be very certain of your lights 
— to show none in any respect. When you ar- 
rive, acquaint the Honorable Board of every 
instance that has happened in my passage, and 
I desire you would be as attentive to the ship in 
port as at sea. Keep regular orders, as you 
would at sea, and the men under the same sub- 
jection. Other orders are to yourself discretion- 
ary in defending the ship. 

Your well-wisher, 

Samuel Tuckek, 
Commanding.’’ 


As rapidly as possible I made my arrange- 
ments for a departure, and soon signalled the 
frigate that I was ready to sail. A salute of 
seven guns was fired, and then with every stitch 
of canvas set I bore away west-north-west to 
reach the latitude assigned me, and along which 
I was to make my way home. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


183 


Three days passed without special incident. 
We reached the thirty-seventh parallel, and pro- 
ceeded westward. Once or twice we caught 
sight of distant sails, but if they saw us they 
did not think we were worth the chasing. So 
when the sun went down on the third night after 
we had parted from the frigate our log showed 
we had made four hundred knots and all was 
well. 

All was well when the sun set ; all was not so 
well when the sun arose ; for there, not over two 
miles away, was an English frigate of thirty- 
two guns, and a few minutes of watching re- 
vealed that she was fast overhauling us. 

I could not then, nor can I after all these 
years, discover any reason why we were to 
blame for the dilemma in which we now found 
ourselves. I had strictly obeyed the orders 
which Captain Tucker had given me. We had 
carried no lights during the night, and it could 
not therefore have been these that had attracted 
the attention of the enemy, and led him to pur- 
sue us. It was clearly one of those cases of hap- 


184 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


pen so, over which we have no control. The 
Britisher had happened to he cruising in that 
locality ; the dawn had disclosed our proximity, 
and she had given chase. 

But whatever the circumstances, they could 
not change the fact that we were pursued by a 
foe so formidable that, should she overhaul us, 
it would he folly to resist her. Our only hope 
was to keep out of her clutches, and even this 
I confess was not at that time very reassuring. 
Still we did all we could to distance her. I gave 
orders to spread every sail, and to put the ship 
on a course where I knew she would do her 
best. An hour passed, and so far as we could 
detect, our pursuer'" was no nearer than when 
we had discovered her. Our hopes brightened. 
Could we only hold our present rate of speed 
throughout the day, we might with the coming 
of the night elude her. 

Noon came. The frigate was nearer us than 
in the morning, but still too far away to reach 
us with her cannon. The rate she was gaining 
on us made it doubtful that she would come 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


185 


within firing distance before sunset. Every 
man on our ship breathed easier. 

At four o’clock she fired a shot, but it fell 
fifty fathoms short of us — far enough away to 
escape us, yet too uncomfortably near to be 
pleasant. It was disagreeable to feel that a gain 
of three hundred feet would allow the ball to 
drop on our deck. 

I had already resorted to nearly every device 
I could conceive of to increase the speed of our 
craft. One remained — the wetting of our sails 
— but the low temperature had prevented me 
from trying that. It would not only mean cold 
work for us, but also an icy deck and sails. Still, 
anything was preferable to our falling into the 
hands of the enemy, and I therefore turned to 
Master LeMoyne, and asked him the advisabil- 
ity of making the experiment. 

^^Do you notice how the jibs are bellowing?” 
he responded. ‘‘Why not try the water on 
them? It will enable them to hold the wind, and 
may be sufficient to keep the ship out of the 
Britisher’s reach until dark.” 


186 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


I accepted the suggestion, and in five minutes 
had our brave men dashing the icy water on the 
canvas. It was not long before the effect was 
noticeable. We actually gained upon the frigate, 
and at sundown she was over a mile away. 

The night came rapidly on, but not so dark as 
we could wish. Still I hoped that with no lights 
set we might get beyond the vision of the pur- 
suer, and then, changing our course, elude her. 
Anxiously we waited for the moment to come 
when it would be safe for us to make the at- 
tempt. 

It was long in coming, for the man-of-war did 
not hesitate to put out her own lights, and was 
therefore plainly visible to us, while it made it 
difficult for us to decide whether she could see 
us or not. Not far from nine o’clock, howeVer, 
I concluded we could not discern the frigate 
were it not for her lights, and reasoned that she 
could no longer perceive us. So I ordered our 
course changed to due east. Two minutes later 
our pursuer altered her own course and fol- 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


187 


lowed us. It was clear she could still make us 
out notwithstanding the darkness. 

After a half hour^s run to the eastward I be- 
came convinced that we were losing ground, and 
resumed our former course. The English craft 
as promptly swung in behind us. 

‘‘They have good eyes on board yonder frig- 
ate,’’ I remarked to Quartermaster Mohyes, 
who stood near me. 

‘ ‘ That they have, sir, ’ ’ he assented, ‘ ‘ and un- 
less we get a cloudy sky before morning I fear 
we shan’t shake them off at all, sir.” 

It was a fear that kept every one of us on the 
deck that night — a fear that grew more and 
more into a certainty. Ten times I changed our 
helm; ten times the pursuing vessel took our 
trail — and morning came with her less than a 
half mile behind us. 

To add to our discomfiture the stiff breeze 
of the last twenty-four hours died away to an oc- 
casional puff. Under the light wind with our 
heavy cargo we scarcely moved, while the frig- 


188 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


ate, of lighter draft, crept steadily down upon 
us. 

At seven o ’clock a shot from her bow gun car- 
ried away our maintopmast, and sent sails and 
spars tumbling to the deck. This crippled us 
and enabled her to gain rapidly upon us, and 
soon she was where she could pour a broadside 
in upon us. 

‘ ‘ Heave to, or we ’ll sink you, ’ ’ her commander 
shouted out, and with a heavy heart I gave the 
order to heave to the ship ; then I hastened be- 
low, where, mindful of Captain Tucker’s com- 
mand, I destroyed the record of his signals, and 
his letter to me. 

When I came out of the cabin a boat from 
our capturer was at our side. An instant later 
the officer in charge mounted to the deck and 
called out in pre-emptory tones : 

'^Wliat craft is this? And who is in com- 
mand of her?” 

^ ^ The ship Martha, a prize of the Continental 
frigate Boston, Midshipman Arthur Dunn with 
a crew of fifteen in charge, and bound for Bos- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


189 


ton,” I replied with the best grace I could as- 
sume. 

^ ^ Show me the ship ’s original papers, ’ ’ he de- 
manded. 

Having anticipated such a request I had the 
papers with me, and now handed them to him. 
He looked them over, and then began to laugh 
uproariously. Finally he managed to say : 

‘ ^ This is rich. Thought you ’d got a fine prize, 
didnT you? Planned to carry this cargo into 
Boston to feed your Yankee soldiers? Well, let 
me tell you ^ there ’s many a slip between the cup 
and lip,^ and they 11 be a hungry lot before they 
ever eat of these stores. Captain Watson will 
see that they are sent to New York where they 
were designed to go. I Ve got a brother there to 
whom I shall write the whole story. Wonl he 
and his comrades laugh when they hear how we 
took the bread right out of the mouth of your 
fellows ! ^ ’ 

I made no reply, perhaps because I was not in 
sympathy with his hilarity. Then he called a 
half dozen of his men to the deck and put the 


190 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


ship in their care, while he went back to the 
frigate to report to his commander. 

Something in his report, or else the long chase 
I had led him, had ruffled the captain’s temper, 
for he made quick work in disposing of us. In 
fifteen minutes we were transferred to the man- 
of-war, and confined in her brig. 

The hatch that imprisoned us shut the Martha 
from our view, and we thought we had seen the 
last of her. Some of us had, but it was my priv- 
ilege to see her again some months later and to 
learn her remarkable history. 

The frigate put a strong crew upon her, and 
ordered her to sail in her wake to Halifax, the 
nearest British port. During the following 
night she in some way became separated from 
her consort, and before she could rejoin her was 
captured by a Continental privateer, who took 
her into Boston. So, contrary to the boast of 
the officer into whose hands I had surrendered 
her, our Yankee soldiers did feed upon her 
stores. 

Had we known this not only as we lay in the 


IN SHIP AND PRISOjN 


191 


darkness of the hold of the Royal Prince^ but 
during the more trying day:s that followed, I am 
quite sure our hearts would have been lighter. 
As it was, to the sufferings we had to bear was 
added the chagrin of the loss of the valuable 
vessel which had been entrusted to our care. At 
times I wondered what Captain Tucker would 
say when the tidings reached him. Would he 
blame us? Then I would think: ^Ht matters 
little, for we shall never meet again. ’ ’ 

Three days of darkness, of vermin, of filth 
and of scanty fare made us ready to exchange 
our quarters in the frigate for any other — it 
mattered not what they were or where. We 
knew they could not be worse. So three days 
later when we heard the rattling of the chains 
which told the vessel had come to anchor, and 
our hatch was opened and we were bidden to 
come forth, we obeyed the summons with de- 
light. 

The bright sunshine, the fresh air, never 
seemed so good before, and as we entered the 
waiting boats, and were taken ashore — in a town 


192 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


which I at once recognized as Halifax — we were 
almost happy. Even when onr captors, after 
our landing, conducted us up the street to the 
massive jail, we did not despair. There would 
at least be light there, even if the filth and fare 
were the same we had experienced on ship- 
board, and that would be something for the bet- 
ter. So with a firm tread and good courage we 
passed through the massive portals, where we 
were thrust into a room already overflowing 
with prisoners. 

In five minutes we were ready to go back to 
the ship’s hold without a murmur; and I hesi- 
tate to write the reason why lest the reader may 
think I state an untruth. It hardly seems pos- 
sible that the worst of men could be guilty of so 
atrocious an act. Yet I am giving here the 
simple fact. We had been put into a room 
Avhere the smallpox was raging. Nearly one- 
half of the score of men there were sick with the 
foul disease, and yet without medical attendance 
of any kind. 

The place reeked with filth; the air was poi-> 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


193 


soned with contagious germs ; the room was too 
small for the number of prisoners already there ; 
the condition of the place must have been known 
to the prison authorities; yet into this pest- 
hole I was thrust with my fifteen men. No foe 
could have perpetrated a more gross cruelty; no 
fiends in human shape could have shown a 
greater malignity. 


CHAPTER Xin 

ON BOARD A BRITISH FRIGATE 

It is impossible to give any adequate picture 
of the days which immediately followed. The 
horror of them is still upon me as I write. There 
are dangers which call out the best in man, which 
arouse all his faculties to face and overcome 
them; there are others that paralyze the arm 
and numb the brain and stupefy the soul. The 
danger before us was of this latter class. For 
an hour after I entered that room and learned 
the situation I sat dazed and stolid, and my men 
were in no better condition. We were hopeless. 

It is said you can become accustomed to any- 


194 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


195 


thing. Possibly that is why my companions at 
length began to stir and speak. It was their re- 
proaches that aroused me. 'AVliy had we not 
fought the enemy on the deck of the Martha, 
and ended our lives there, instead of foolishly 
surrendering her, and dying here in this foul 
pen ? ’ ^ they were saying. They did not hesitate 
to throw the blame on me. Stung to the quick, 
I sprang to my feet. I threw off the lethargy 
I was in, and I said resolutely: 

‘^Comrades, do not be unreasonable. You 
know I acted for the best when I surrendered 
the Martha. I did as any other wise commander 
would have done under the same circumstances. 
Let us suppose we had fought ; some of us would 
have survived the conflict and been thrust in 
here to meet the same foul conditions. Can we 
tell which of us it might have been? Would we 
have been any better prepared to face the situa- 
tion than now? Here we are all well and strong. 
Let us arouse ourselves. Let us do for these 
suffering men around us all we can do. Not 
every one who has the smallpox dies with it. 


196 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Let us face this foe as we would any other, and 
endeavor, to conquer it; and if we do go down 
before it, let us die as we would on a ship’s deck 
— like men, doing our duty for ourselves and 
others.” 

I did not have to make a second appeal. A 
ringing ‘‘Aye, aye, sir!” followed my speech, 
and then the lads crowded about me asking what 
they should do. 

“First, we’ll find who these suffering men are 
and how we can help them, ’ ’ I answered. ‘ ‘ Then 
we’ll see if we cannot clean up this foul pen, 
and make it more habitable. The disease will 
not rage so severely where there is no filth, I ’ve 
been told ; and it may be I can prevail upon the 
prison authorities to furnish us with clean beds 
and proper medical attendance. Rest assured 
I ’ll do all I can to bring about a better condition 
of things here.” 

“That you will, sir,” they responded, and 
turned with me to attend to the sick ones about 
us. 

As I had expected, we found them all Colonial 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


197 


prisoners. Some had been there for weeks, 
others like ourselves were newcomers. Two 
weeks before one of their number had come 
down with the smallpox, and the case had been 
promptly reported to the prison officials. The 
only thing that had been done by them, how- 
ever, was to put a man in charge of the room 
who was an immune, and to bury the dead — for 
four of their number had already died from the 
disease. 

I found the only thing we could do for the 
present was to place the suffering men in easier 
IDOsitions, and moisten their parched lips with 
the scanty supply of water at our command. 
But later, when the turnkey came — an old fel- 
low, deaf and gruff and indifferent to our condi- 
tion — I appealed to him to ask the superintend- 
ent of the jail to furnish us with implements for 
cleaning up the room, and with clean clothing 
for the sick, and with medical care. 

He demurred, saying: ^^They won’t do noth- 
in ’ for ye. They’d rather ye ’d die here like rats 
in a hole.” 


198 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Then I grew angry. ‘ ^ Tell him, ’ ’ I exclaimed, 
‘ ‘ that there is an officer in here who is not going 
to die with the disease, and as snre as he lives 
the home government shall know. Yea, the 
whole civilized world shall know how he is treat- 
ing men whose only fault is that they are pris- 
oners.^^ 

There must have been something in my looks 
or tones that startled him, for he shuffled away 
down the corridor, and going to the prison offi- 
cials made known my demands, repeating word 
for word what I had said. The result was we 
were furnished with shovels, brooms, pails and 
water in abundance, and before night our quar- 
ters were clean. 

A week passed, however, without any of my 
other demands being met. Six more men died, 
and were wrapped in their blankets, and carried 
away to their burial. Ten more of the men had 
come down with the contagion. The time was 
fast approaching when the disease might be ex- 
pected to appear among my own crew. We 
needed everything — beds, clothing, better and 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


199 


more food, and medicine. In my desperation I 
grew cunning. From a piece of wire I found in 
tlie possession of one of the men I manufaptured 
a key, with which I could unlock our door. 

I knew it only allowed me to enter the outside 
corridor, but even that circumstance I believed 
I could use to our advantage. Our turnkey was 
in the habit of communicating with us by a small 
opening in the door. In fact, the door had been 
thrown wide open but once since we had en- 
tered the prison — the day we had cleaned the 
room, and then four soldiers, all immunes, had 
stood in the passageway with loaded muskets 
to prevent our escape. Usually, however, the 
attendant came to the door alone. 

With this fact in mind, near the noon hour I 
unlocked the door and waited. As soon as I 
heard the footsteps of the old man outside, I 
suddenly threw the door open, and sprang out 
upon him. He was so surprised I had no diffi- 
culty in catching him by the shoulders. 

‘^Now lead me to the office,’’ I demanded. 

‘‘But you mustn’t go there, sir,” he cried in 


200 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


alarm. ^ H ’m told not so much as to let you into 
the corridor. You’ll give the disease to the 
officials and the other prisoners.” 

‘^That is just what I propose to do,” I re- 
torted, shaking him as a terrier would a rat. 
‘Hf we are not given clean beds and clothing 
and medicine, we ’ll tear this building down inch 
by inch; we’ll scatter the germs of the smallpox 
on the air. Some of us may die in the attempt, 
but not until we have infected the whole town. 
So lead on or I ’ll throttle you ! ” 

My loud voice and his equally loud remon- 
strances reached the ears of the superintendent, 
as I had intended they should, and he now 
peeped into the corridor to see what the trouble 
was. Catching enough of my words to compre- 
hend both my demands and my threats, he called 
out: 

‘ ^ Don ’t come down here, sir ! Let the turnkey 
go, and I’ll do what you say. The things shall 
be sent you at once.” 

I looked doubtfully at him. don’t know 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


201 


whether to believe you or not,’’ I then said 
slowly. 

^H’ll keep my word. I’ll send men at once 
with the things, and they’ll bring your old ones 
away, and burn them. Only go back into your 
room and stay there.” 

‘H’ll try you this once,” I finally decided, re- 
leasing the turnkey. ^‘But mark you, if you 
fail me, there’ll be the hottest time in this old 
jail you ever saw. We can get out of the room 
when we please, and as I said, we may die in 
the attempt, but it will not be until we have 
exposed lots of you to the foul disease from 
which we are suffering,” and I went back info 
the room. 

He kept his word in part. The clean beds 
and clothing were brought, but we received no 
medical care or supplies, and so the next morn- 
ing I repeated that part of my demand. 

‘ ^ The superintendent told me to tell you that 
he was trying to find a physician for you, ’ ’ the 
attendant said tremblingly, ‘‘but so far every 
one in town has refused to come here.” 


202 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


Another week passed. Eight more'of the lads 
had ended their sufferings, and seven new cases 
of the disease had developed — among them 
three of my own men: Midshipman LeMoyne, 
Quartermaster Mohyes, and Elias Bowden, an 
old sailor. 

Of the original prisoners — those in the room 
at our coming — there were only six surviving, 
so terrible had been the ravages of the scourge 
among them. Would there be as great a loss 
among my crew! I feared it, and though at 
that time of my life I was not much given to 
prayer, I now prayed : 

^^0, Lord, spare my men. Send us help in 
someway. We are in sore need.’’ 

Over and over again I repeated the words, 
and in some way they gave me great comfort. 
I felt the help was coming, but I acknowledge it 
came in a way I little expected. The next morn- 
ing there were hurried feet along our corridor, 
then the door suddenly swung back, and the 
funniest little Frenchman I ever saw popped in. 

Short and fat, and dressed in the height of 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


203 


fashion, he bowed repeatedly first to one, then 
to another of us, all the while talking in a 
strange mixture of good French and poor Eng- 
lish. Between it all we made out that he was 
Doctor Jean Vignor, who had landed in the town 
the previous day. Learning by the merest acci- 
dent of our situation, he had deemed it a great 
privilege to volunteer his services for our relief. 
The prison authorities had consented, and there 
he was to take the cases in hand. 

‘^The leetlepox is nothing,^’ he declared with 
a majestic wave of the hand. have the 
remedy to cure, and the remedy to stop it ; ’ ’ and 
then he began to examine his patients. 

He went from one to the other, nodding his 
head approvingly to some, and shaking his head 
seriously at others, and administering medicine 
to all. When the round was made, he came 
to me, whom he seemed to recognize as chief, 
saying : 

cure him, and him, and him, and him,” 
pointing out the men as he spoke; ‘4iim and 
him and him I no cure. ’ ’ 


204 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


With a heavy heart I noticed that the three 
whom he had designated as beyond the reach 
of his healing powers were my own comrades. 
He now did what seemed to me a strange thing. 
He made every well man among ns march up 
before him, and lancing a place in the arm he 
rubbed in a thick fluid which he took from a 
small vial in his case. 

‘‘You have not the pox now, or else have it 
light,’’ he explained. “My friend Doctor Jen- 
ner of London is what you call experimenting 
with it. Some day it will make him famous. 
He calls it vaccine.” 

I now know he had vaccinated us — a common 
thing today, and a discovery which, as the 
Frenchman predicted, has made Doctor Jen- 
ner’s name well known the world over — but we 
had never heard of the process before, and 
could not appreciate its value then as we did a 
little later. 

So droll was our new friend that he cheered 
our hearts ; so well did he seem to understand 
the dread disease with which he battled that he 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


205 


inspired our confidence; so strong was his in- 
fluence with the prison authorities that he se- 
cured from them whatever he felt his patients 
needed; so completely did he transform our 
prison life that it seemed as though the sun 
had come out from the thick clouds and was 
sending its healing beams upon us. The only 
sadness that came to me while he was with us 
was the death of the three comrades whose cases 
he had at the very outset pronounced incurable. 
Even then he did all he could to comfort me, 
and obtained permission from the officials for 
me to accompany them to and mark their graves. 

Of the remainder of our crew three did not 
have the smallpox at all — William Goss, 
Richard Webber, and myself — due. Doctor Vig- 
nor said, to the great sores which formed upon 
our arms. The others had the disease, but so 
lightly they were scarcely indisposed. 

‘Ht^s the vaccine,’’ declared the physician. 

‘‘Then you should proclaim your remedy to 
the world,” I insisted. 

He shook his head. “That is my friend’s 


206 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


work,” he explained. ^‘He told me of this, and 
I will not steal his honor. In due time he will 
give it to the world.”* 

In a month the last case of the disease had 
disapj)eared, and our room had been thoroughly 
cleansed and fumigated. 

‘‘It’s time for me to go,” our good friend 
now announced, “and I wish I could take you 
all with me. ’ ’ Then lowering his voice he added : 

“ I go to your country to be a surgeon in your 
army. I’ll tell them of you, and have them ar- 
range an exchange.” 

About the first of June I thought he had ac- 
complished his desire, for a British officer came 
to our room, and looking us all over, asked our 
names, and the station in which we had served. 
Then he said : 

“Arthur Dunn, William Goss, and Richard 
Webber are to come with me.” 

“Are you sure that is all who are to go?” I 
questioned, reluctant to leave a single man be- 
hind. 


♦Dr. Jenner did this a few years later. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


207 


‘Ht is all wlio are to go now,^’ he replied 
curtly. ‘ ‘ The others may be sent for later. ’ ’ 

Thus reassured we, the fortunate three as 
we thought, bade our comrades good-bye, and 
with exultant hearts followed the officer from 
the room. Once in the street, he led us down to 
the wharf where a yawl was in waiting. 

‘‘Get in,^^ he commanded, and, still thinking 
that we were to be taken to some vessel where 
our exchange was to be effected, we obeyed with 
alacrity. 

The men at the oars pulled us off towards a 
large frigate well out in the harbor. Soon we 
were where I could obtain a good view of her. 

“The Saint George!^ ^ I exclaimed, recogniz- 
ing the frigate on which I had served as a mid- 
shipman before the war with the colonies. Then, 
too, like a flash it dawned upon me that m}^ com- 
rades and myself were not to be exchanged; 
but were to be pressed into the English naval 


service. 


CHAPTER XIV 

I KEJOIN THE BOSTON 

I glanced at my comrades and the expression 
on their faces showed that they had recognized 
the significance of my exclamation, and like 
myself had surmised the fate in store for us. 
But there was no time for us to speak to each 
other or to protest with our captor for the next 
moment we touched the side of the vessel, and 
received the per-emptory order to mount to 
her deck. 

I do not know what the thoughts of my com- 
panions were, but as for myself I was wonder- 
ing if there would he any of the old ofiicers or 


208 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


209 


men on tlie frigate. If so, would they know 
me? And if I were recognized what would be 
the outcome? Would I be regarded as a de- 
serter, and receive a deserter ^s punishnient? 
The thought was not a pleasant one, and I con- 
fess that as I stepped over the railing of the 
craft I glanced apprehensively about me. 

The first man my eye fell upon was the officer 
of the deck, and who should he be but my old 
acquaintance Midshipman Seymour, though he 
now held the rank of a lieutenant. But if he 
recognized me he gave no sign of it. Walking 
over to us as though he expected and had pre- 
pared for our coming, he took a notebook from 
his pocket, and, referring to it, called out : 

‘‘William Goss!’^ 

‘ ‘ Here, sir, ’ ’ the sailor answered, though with 
evident reluctance. 

“You are assigned to the mizzen-top-mast 
crew, to the starboard gun, number four, and 
are in Lieutenant Grant’s watch/’ he an- 
nounced, referring again to his book. “You 
may go forward and report to the officer there. 


210 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


He will see that you have your equipment, and 
are shown your station/’ Then he glanced at 
his notes again. 

‘‘Richard Webber !” he now called. 

“Here, sir,” the owner of the name re- 
sponded, because there was nothing else to do. 

“You are assigned to the fore-top-mast crew, 
to the larboard gun, number ten, and are in my 
watch. Go forward and report to the officer 
there. ’ ’ 

Before he called my name he stared hard at 
me, but I met his gaze without flinching. Then 
he read : 

‘ ‘ Arthur Dunn ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Here, sir, ’ ’ I replied promptly. 

“This is singular,” he remarked, and eying 
me again. “I never expected to see you again 
on this ship, but the fates have ordered other- 
wise. Your case is so remarkable, sir, I must 
take you to the captain,” and he led me down 
to the cabin. 

As I went I remember wishing that the com- 
manding officer might not be Captain Rawlins. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


211 


He had been so kind to me when I first boarded 
the frigate, and in fact during all the time I 
was upon her, I did not care to receive my 
sentence from his lips. I preferred to have an 
entire stranger pass judgment upon me. 

My desire was gratified. A man I had never 
seen before sat at the table, but as he turned 
his face towards me I knew I could expect no 
mercy from his hands. Cold, stern, relentless, 
cruel — those were the characteristics I read 
there, and with the feeling that I had again 
fallen into a hard place, I paused before him. 

‘ ‘ This is the young man I was to bring down 
to you when he arrived, sir,^’ Lieutenant Sey- 
mour said. 

The officer turned and stared at me. 

‘‘Your nameP^ he then demanded brusquely, 
and I knew that it was only a matter of form. 

“Arthur Dunn,” I confessed. 

“You were once a midshipman on this 
frigate?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And ran away to join the enemy?” 


212 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


‘ ‘ I hardly think that is a fair way to put it, ’ ’ 
I began, when he interrupted me. 

‘‘Of course you don’t. No deserter ever did 
think his case was put fairly,” he exclaimed 
with a sneer. “To my mind there is but one 
thing to do with men of your stamp — it is to 
hang them to the nearest yard-arm. And I 
would do it, were there not a special order out 
from the Naval Board for you to be sent back 
to England if apprehended, where you are to 
be made an example. So you are safe, so far 
as your life is concerned, until you get there. 
But we ’ll manage to make that life as miserable 
for you as it well can be,” and he grinned as 
though the thought was pleasing to him. 

Then to the waiting lieutenant he said : 

“Take him forward, sir, and see that he has 
half rations, double work, and double watches* 
If he rebels, give him twenty blows with the 
cat; and if that doesn’t tame him, give him 
forty,” and again he gave that satanic grin. 
Master Seymour also laughed, and I knew he 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


213 


had received an order he would delight to carry 
out to the letter. 

In the forecastle I found quite a number of 
men I knew, but with the exception of old Pete 
Berry they greeted me with jeers. It was clear 
that they had no love for one whom they re- 
garded as a deserter, and I was confident that 
in them the captain would find the tools he de- 
sired to make my stay on shipboard anything 
but agreeable. 

I shall not weary the reader by relating here 
the many and repeated insults I received, by 
telling the hard and disagreeable tasks to which 
I was assigned, by recounting the lashes which 
without any provocation on my part were put 
upon my back. I had not been on board the 
ship a week before I knew my only hope was 
to escape from the clutches of my tormentors. 
I simply abided my opportunity. 

The following week an incident happened 
which at the time seemed to me to close every 
opportunity I might have had to escape, but 


214 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


which really proved to be the link in the chain 
which was to give me my freedom. 

The frigate had sighted and chased an Amer- 
ican privateer. She was apparently nearly 
overhauled, and onr bow gun was ready for the 
firing. Then I was brought forward, and the 
command was given me to aim, and touch off 
the cannon. 

^‘And mark you,’’ Lieutenant Seymour, who 
gave the order, continued, ‘4f you miss the 
craft, you shall receive forty blows from the 
cat.” 

^‘Then you’d better give me the blows now,” 
I replied resolutely, ‘Hor I will not aim or 
fire a gun at my countrymen, not if I die for it. ’ ’ 

There was no time just then to use the lash, 
so I was hurried off to the brig, and confined 
there until the battle with the sloop-of-war was 
over. They did not forget me, however, and 
possibly the escape of the Continental vessel 
after a slight brush with them added to the 
spite which was put into the blows I received. 
With back lacerated and bleeding, and every 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


215 , 


part of my body quivering and aching in sympa- 
thy, I was thrown back into the brig with the 
assurance that I should lie there until the ship 
was in port. 

The next morning I was delirious with the 
fever from my sores, and, perhaps fearing I 
might not be in a condition to turn over to the 
home officials when we arrived in London, the 
ship’s doctor was sent to me. He took me in 
hand to such a good purpose that in a few days 
I was myself again, save the scars on my back.* 
But they still thought the brig the best place 
‘for me, and left me confined there. It was then 
I gave up all hope of effecting my escape, and 
began to speculate on what would happen when 
I was handed over to the Naval Board. 

Another week passed, and one night my 
guard was a marine named Blinn, with whom 
I had scarcely spoken. I was surprised there- 
fore when he unlocked the door of the brig, and 
stepping quickly in closed it behind him. His 
first words surprised me even more. He said 
in a low whisper : 


216 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


^‘You know my brother, Thomas Blinn?” 
rather think I do,” I answered. ‘‘He is 
one of my best friends — we were midshipmen 
together on two vessels, the Franklin and the 
Boston. He is on the latter now, over in France, 
I presume.” 

“Across in France, you mean,” he corrected, 
“as we are now in the English Channel.” 

“Well, across in France, if you prefer; it 
makes little difference,” I replied. 

“It makes lots of difference, if you wish to 
escape,” he went on eagerly. “We are be- 
calmed, in a thick fog, and there is a boat out. 
It was put out this afternoon to fix something 
that was wrong in the anchor chains. The men 
didnT finish their job, and so the yawl was left 
there, side of the vessel until morning. Pete 
Berry told me about it, and he says you and I 
can slip into her, cut her loose, and cross over 
to the French shore.” 

Then, that I might understand better his rea- 
son for leaving the ship, he added: “Like my 
brother, my sympathies are with the colonies. 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


217 


and I have been trying for nearly two years 
to get away from the vessels I have been on, 
bnt the opportnnity has never come nntil now. 
Listen while I tell yon what you are to do. 

“Do down this passageway to the farther 
end, where yon will find a door opening into the 
forecastle. Yon are to slip in there, and stay 
xmtil the watch changes. When the new watch 
goes on deck yon are to go np with them, and 
conceal yourself under the truck of the bow- 
gun. Bemain there until Pete comes to you. 
He will tell you what to do next.'’ 

“And where shall I find you?” I queried. 

“I shall be in the boat before you are,” he 
answered confidently. “The new guard will be 
here in a few minutes, and when I have placed 
my musket in the rack, I shall go forward for 
a little turn in the fresh air before I seek my 
hammock. Once on the bow I shall find a way 
to get into the boat. Don’t worry about me, 
but do just as I have told you, and in an hour 
we shall be free.” 

Keasoning that I could be no worse oif if 


218 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


I failed in the attempt, I followed him out into 
the passage, and then crept softly down it. 
Eeaching the door, I opened it and entered the 
forecastle. Some of the men were awake, but 
they took no notice of me in the semi-darkness, 
and, throwing myself into an empty hammock, 
I waited for the next watch to be called to the 
deck. 

The summons came almost immediately, and 
unnoticed I clambered up to the deck with the 
other sailors. It was so dark I could not see 
two feet away, and thus favored I made my way 
forward to the bow-chaser under which I 
quickly concealed myself. 

The time I lay there seemed very long; in 
reality it was hut a few minutes. Then some 
one touched my arm, and I hastily arose to find 
Pete Berry beside me. 

^ ^ Come, ’ ’ he said in a hoarse whisper. 

Silently I followed him, and he led me over 
to the starboard side of the craft and put. my 
hand on the rope which led down to the yawl. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


219 


“Go down/’ he said again in the same low 
tone, “but wait two minutes till I jine ye.” 

It was the first intimation I had that the old 
sailor was going along too ; but I had a greater 
surprise when my feet touched the boat, for I 
found there three men instead of one., The 
additional ones were my comrades, Goss and 
Webber. 

I could have hugged them in the ecstasy of my 
joy at this discovery, for the one misgiving I 
had in the whole plan was whether it would 
be right for me to run away and leave them 
behind. Putting off, however, that joyous ex- 
pression for a safer moment, I waited impa- 
tiently for Pete to join us. He came in the 
specified time, bringing quite a large package 
with him. 

“It’s our rations,” he explained as he drew 
his knife and cut us adrift. 

Rapidly the boat fell away from the frigate, 
and she was soon lost in the fog. In a half hour 
we deemed it safe to put out our oars. All night 
long, by turns, we pulled away, and when morn- 


220 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


ing da^vned we estimated that we had made at 
least ten miles. 

As the sun came up the mist lifted enough for 
us to make out a brig coming directly towards 
us, and at her masthead were the stars and 
stripes. The moment I caught sight of that 
flag, I leaped to my feet, waved my hands, and 
shouted at the top of my voice. My comrades 
followed my example, and in a few minutes we 
had the satisfaction of seeing that we had at- 
tracted the vessel’s attention. 

Down she came and rounded to us. The next 
moment we were on her deck to find she was 
the Britannica, a prize of the Boston, in com- 
mand of Midshipman Thomas Blinn, and bound 
for L ’Orient, where she was to await the com- 
ing of the frigate. 

Our story, long as it was, was soon told, and 
then Master Blinn related the history of the 
Boston since I had left her. Her passage across 
the ocean had been made without mishap, and 
on March thirty-first she entered the river of 
Bordeaux. April first she weighed anchor and 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


221 


ascended as far as the town Lavmoon, which 
she saluted with thirteen guns, and where she 
lay until the next morning. She continued up 
the river to within three miles of Bordeaux, 
where she landed Master Adams. There the 
vessels had been thoroughly overhauled, and 
left for a cruise across to the banks of New- 
foundland, looking for prizes. A number had 
been captured on the westward voyage and sent 
into Boston. Returning, the Britannica, bound 
from Newfoundland to Oporto, and loaded with 
seventeen hundred quintals of fish, had been 
taken. Midshipman Blinn with a crew of six 
had been put on board, with orders to precede 
the frigate to L ’Orient. 

We arrived at that port July third, and two 
days later the Boston came in. I went on board 
at once, and made my report to Captain Tucker. 
He was kind enough to say: 

do not see how you are at all to blame. 
Master Dunn, for the loss of the ship you com- 
manded. An older and more experienced officer 
would hardly have done differently under the 


222 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


circumstances. As for the experiences which 
came later, they were beyond your control, and 
you are in no way responsible for them — un- 
less,’’ he added with a smile, ‘‘we except your 
second runaway from the Saint George, and for 
that you will doubtless have to answer to the 
British authorities, if they ever catch you 
again.” 


CHAPTER XV 

WE CAPTUEE THE POLE 

During the month that now followed two in- 
teresting events took place. The first was the 
sale of all the prizes which had been sent into 
French ports, and the distribution of the money 
among our crew. I had supposed that Masters 
Goss and Webber and myself would not share 
in this distribution, as we had not been in the 
frigate when these vessels were captured. But 
the decision was that every man on the ship’s 
roster was entitled to his proportionate part, 
and so we, who had just returned from cap- 
tivity, each received a tidy little sum. 


223 


224 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


The other event was the re-organization of 
our crew. Our first lieutenant had died from a 
wound he received by the bursting of a gun, so 
Master Welch was now advanced to the first 
place, Master Bates to the second, and Master 
Livingstone was sent down from Paris to fill 
the vacancy thus made, that of a third lieuten- 
ant. A young man named Philip Forrier was 
appointed midshipman in the place of Master 
LeMoyne, who had died at Halifax. 

There was a more radical change in our non- 
commissioned officers, and an enlistment of a 
number of new men, including Master Blinn and 
old Pete Berry, who' had escaped from the 
Saint George with me. This gave us a total 
crew of one hundred and forty-six men and 
boys, exclusive of our officers, and exclusive of 
our marines, of whom we had a full company. 

The re-organization completed, on August 
first we put to sea again, this time homeward 
bound. For three weeks we sailed on our 
course, catching sight of hut two vessels during 
the whole time, which were too far away for us 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


225 


to overhaul. Then our fortune changed and 
during the next week we captured a prize every 
day — all of which were manned with prize 
crews, and ordered to follow in the wake of the 
frigate. 

The fleet made a fine spectacle, if I do say it, 
and there was an amount of prize money repre- 
sented there to rejoice every sailor’s heart. Yet 
with the most of us I do not think that was the 
first thought. As good patriots we rejoiced that 
we were bearing home stores which would help 
to sustain and clothe an army of as true and 
faithful men as ever fought for home or native 
land. 

I was put in command of the last prize, the 
brig Sally, bound from London to Pensacola, 
and having a cargo consisting of one hundred 
barrels of flour, two hundred bags of bread, 
one hundred and thirty-nine tierces of beef, 
three hundred barrels of pork, seventy firkins 
of butter and a large lot of liquors. 

I am glad to be able to write that I took the 
craft safely into port, and had but one incident 


226 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


out of the usual order. We were experiencing 
quite a gale, and some of the sailors had been 
ordered aloft to reef the top-sails. One of them, 
Eichard Jones by name, in some way lost his 
hold and came tumbling down head-first. As I 
saw him coming I was confident he would strike 
upon the deck and he killed. But just before 
he struck the brig lurched, and, clearing the 
larboard rail, he went overboard. 

Knowing he could not swim, I ordered Quar- 
termaster William Atkins, who was acting as 
my first officer, to heave to the vessel, and send 
out a boat. Then, throwing off my coat and 
boots, I plunged into the sea. 

Eising to the surface I looked around for 
Master Jones, and caught sight of him a few 
fathoms away. He disappeared before I could 
reach him, and treading water I waited for him 
to re-appear. He came up for the last time, 
only a few feet away, and catching him by the 
collar I struggled to keep him above the waves 
until the boat could arrive. 

Night was fast falling ; the storm was increas- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


227 


ing in violence; and tlie waves rolled so high 
that I was unable to see the vessel or the boat 
which I was sure had been lowered. Master 
Jones was unconscious, and hung a dead weight 
upon my arm. It was difficult to keep him and 
myself on the surface, and already I felt my 
own strength was fast failing. Unless the 
rescuers came soon we must both go down. 

Then there came a faint shout across the 
water to cheer my heart, and to which I re- 
sponded in the loudest tones I could utter. I 
was heard, and the yawl, which had been going 
in quite another direction, turned and came 
towards me. 

I kept crying out at intervals, and the lookout 
in the bow of the boat answered, the double 
cries serving to nerve me to hold out on the 
one hand, and to guide the craft to me on the 
other. At length they were beside me, and, 
nearly exhausted, I was drawn on board with 
my unconscious burden. 

Then we tried to see where the brig was, but 
between the great waves and the darkness she 


228 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


was concealed from onr view. Taking the direc- 
tion we felt sure she was in, the four oarsmen 
pulled long and lustily against wind and waves 
and yet she did not appear. We had about con- 
cluded that we had lost her, when her lights 
suddenly appeared on our starboard, and we 
were able to hail her. In five minutes we were 
under her lee, and then were quickly drawn to 
her deck. 

Dry clothing and a warm drink soon brought 
me to the place where I felt as good as new ; hut 
they had to work over Master Jones for half 
an hour before he came to consciousness, and he 
could not leave the forecastle until the following 
day. I have related this incident here not to 
glorify myself, hut to say that it was the only 
act of mine that ever received a reprimand from 
Captain ^Tucker . 

“Your motive was all right. Master Dunn,’’ 
he admitted, “and your plunge overboard to 
save one of your men was a grand exhibition 
of courage. But what if you had lost your life, 
or your boat had failed to return to the brig? 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


229 


She would have been left in a crippled condi- 
tion, and might not have survived the storm. 
Do always all that you can to save a man who 
falls overboard without endangering your ship, 
but remember that the ship and her cargo are 
solemn trusts, and the lives of many are to be 
considered rather than the lives of the few. ’ ^ 

But if he did not appreciate tlie deed, there 
was one who did. '\^nien Master Jones came 
on deck, he walked directly to me, and touching 
his cap, said : 

owe you my life, sir, an’ it’s yours. I not 
only thank ye for what ye did for me, but I’ll 
do my best to make it good some day, sir,” a 
promise he faithfully kept. 

We reached Boston October fifteenth, and 
while the frigate was being overhauled, the cap- 
tain and I got a chance to run down to' Marble- 
head for a brief stay. Our coming created 
something of a sensation this time, as it had on 
the occasion of our previous visit, though for 
different reasons. The captain’s prowess had 
preceded him and his fellow townsmen were 


230 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


proud to have him with them again ; for myself, 
they had heard I had died of the smallpox in the 
Halifax prison, and were filled with curiosity 
to know how I came to be alive and well and in 
my old place on the ship. 

Before the month was over, however, we were 
otf to sea again, and during the next six months 
made such havoc among the enemy’s shipping 
that a price was put on Captain Tucker’s head. 
If I recollect rightly, we took a score of mer- 
chantmen with large and valuable cargoes, and 
two frigates, the Glencairn of twenty guns and 
the Thorn of eighteen. 

Early in June, 1779, we went on a cruise to 
the West Indies which lasted until the follow- 
ing September. During this trip our prizes 
were so numerous, the British admiral at New 
York selected the frigate Pole, carrying thirty- 
two guns, and over three hundred men, and sent 
her out for the special purpose of finding and 
destroying the Boston, or as her Captain ex- 
pressed it: ‘‘Of giving that rebel Tucker a 
sound drubbing.” 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


231 


We learned of tliis fact through the captain 
of the packet Sandwich, which was captured off 
the Bermudas. Chagrined at the loss of his own 
vessel, the moment he mounted to our deck, the 
officer exclaimed: 

^^Well, sir, you have taken my vessel, but let 
me tell you it will not be many days before you 
yourself are captured.’’ 

^Hs that so?” Captain Tucker questioned 
with a smile. ^^Pray tell me who is going to 
do it?” 

‘‘The frigate Pole/^ he returned boastingly. 
‘ ‘ She has been fitted up and sent out on purpose 
to look you up and give you a sound drubbing. 
I heard her captain say he’d do it. She left 
New York four days ago, and must be down in 
this region by this time. Your cable is pretty 
nearly paid out. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Cannot you tell me more about her, so I may 
know her when I see her?” asked our com- 
mander tauntingly. “I might want to run 
away.” 

“That will do you little good,” the English- 


232 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


man replied, taking onr skipper seriously. ^ ^ She 
is bigger than you are, and carries eight more 
guns. She also has twice as large a crew, all 
picked men, and in addition a large body of 
marines. Besides that, she is the swiftest sailer 
on this side of the ocean, and can run you down 
in no time.’’ 

^Ht does look as though I’d find her more 
than a match, doesn’t it?” our Captain re- 
marked soberly. She’s a good thing to avoid. 
I’m much obliged to you for your information. 
One thing more, please. You are quite sure she 
is somewhere between here and New York?” 

The prisoner bit his lip. It had dawned upon 
him that possibly he had been talking too much. 
His information might enable Captain Tucker 
to escape capture. Finally, however, he an- 
swered : 

“The frigate left New York, as I have said, 
four days ago; you must judge for yourself 
where she is now. ’ ’ 

“I think we’ll run up that way and take a 
look at her,” was the Captain’s comment. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


233 


Two days later we sighted a frigate, and Cap- 
tain Tucker knew her at once by the descrip- 
tion he had received. Sending for the com- 
mander of the packet, he pointed out the distant 
vessel, saying : 

There is your frigate. Now I want you to 
stand here, and see how I run away from her. 
But mind, not a word from you to thwart my 
plans. ’ ^ 

Then he ordered the English colors hoisted, 
and ran down towards the vessel. As soon as 
he had come within speaking distance, the Eng- 
lish captain hailed him : 

‘‘What ship is that!’’ 

“Captain Gordon’s,^’ replied our Captain, for 
he knew that Captain Gordon commandea an 
English ship, modelled and built much like the 
Boston, and had been unusually successful in 
taking American prizes. 

“Where are you from?’’ 

“From New York.” 

“We are from there also.” 

‘ ‘ When did you leave ? ’ ’ 


234 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


‘‘About six days ago. I’m after the frigate 
Boston to take that rebel Tucker. IVe sworn 
I’ll earn the price set on his head, and am 
bound to carry him dead or alive into New York. 
Have you seen him ! ’ ’ 

“Well,” rejoined Captain Tucker, “I have 
heard of him. They say he is a hard customer. ’ ’ 

During all this conversation, he had been 
quietly manoeuvering to bring his ship into a 
raking position, so as to sweep the decks of the 
English frigate. He had every man at his post, 
his guns shotted, and his gunners with lighted 
matches in their hands all awaiting his orders. 

But it happened that there was a man in the 
maintop of the Pole who had formerly known 
Captain Tucker, and he now cried out to the 
English captain : 

‘ ‘ That is surely Tucker himself, and we shall 
have a hot time here directly!” 

This was overheard by our commander, and 
having got his ship into just the position he 
wished, and seeing that he was discovered, he 
gave the order : 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


235 


^‘Down with the English flag and hoist onr 
own colors!’’ 

Then he called out to the British captain in a 
voice of thunder : 

‘^The time I proposed talking with you has 
ended, sir. This is the Boston frigate. I am 
Samuel Tucker, and no rebel. Either fire or 
strike your flag ! ’ ’ 

Observing that his antagonist had all the ad- 
vantage of him, and that a broadside would be 
fatal, the Britisher struck his colors. Not a gun 
was fired. 

Later, when the commander of the Pole came 
on board of our ship, and went below to the 
stateroom assigned him, he shed tears to think 
that he had been captured by a vessel not so 
large as his own, and with only half as many 
men, and eight less guns. It is also reported 
that on his release and return to England he 
was tried and disgraced for this surrender. 

Quite in contrast with this was the treatment 
given our Captain on his arrival in Philadelphia 
with his prize. Her capture added to his 


236 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


prowess, he received a vote of thanks from Con- 
gress, and, owing to her superior size and equip- 
ment, her entire value of one hundred and three 
thousand pounds sterling was turned over to us 
as prize money. 

Probably, however, the most disgusted man 
on board the captured frigate was the captain 
of the packet Sandwich, who had given us our 
first news about her, and who had boasted she 
would speedily capture us. He had been a 
silent witness of her ignominious surrender. 
Then Captain Tucker had sent him on board 
of her, with instructions that each day while we 
were on our way to port, he was to be conducted 
all over her, from bow to stern, and from lower 
hold to upper deck, and then he was to be told : 

‘‘This, sir, is the vessel which was specially 
fitted up and sent out to look up the frigate 
Boston, and give her captain a sound drub- 
bing.” 


CHAPTER XVI 

TO THE DEFENSE OF CHAKLESTON 

After two weeks in port we sailed again, this 
time making a cruise to the northward. We 
reached the neighborhood of Halifax before we 
found a prize, and then captured a small brig. 
Learning that she was a part of a convoy, con- 
sisting of the frigate Elizabeth of twenty guns, 
the brig Observer of sixteen guns, and the sloop 
of war Howe of fourteen guns, and that there 
were under their protection two large ships with 
cargoes of great value. Captain Tucker deter- 
mined ^Ho make capital,’’ as he expressed it, 
and sailed to intercept them. 


237 


238 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


The next morning they were sighted, and 
hoisting the English colors we sailed boldly into 
their midst. Selecting the heaviest armed ship, 
we came up with her and hailed her : 

‘‘Are you thefrigateEZisia&e^/^, from Antigua 
bound to Halifax r’ was our Captain’s query. 

“Yes,” was the answer. “What ship are 
you?” 

Instead of replying directly. Captain Tucker 
answered : 

“I’ll come on board.” 

He had already laid his plans. Fifty men 
under the command of Lieutenant Bates were in 
readiness to board her. To them and to the 
helmsman a set of special signals was given, 
and specific directions as to the part they were 
expected to play in the coming struggle. Then 
the first signal was given, and as if by accident 
the Boston ran afoul of the Elizabeth^ s yards. 
Pretending it was the fault of the helmsman. 
Captain Tucker called out : 

“Brace about there, sir,” but at the same 
time he gave his second secret signal. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


239 


The sailor at the helm saw it, and in obedience 
to that rather than to the spoken command, only 
entangled the vessel with her antagonist more 
and more, and soon was in close contact with 
her. 

Seeing all was ready, onr skipper gave his 
third signal, and a waiting sailor ran down the 
English flag and hoisted the stars and stripes. 
Then in stentorian tones came the command : 

^‘Fire!^’ 

But the English captain had now discovered 
our real character, and both vessels fired a 
broadside at the same time. The moment the 
terrible roar of the artillery ceased, however, 
the fifty picked men leaped on board the Eliza- 
beth. Like the rush of a whirlwind they swept 
her deck, drove her crew down below, and hauled 
down her colors. These movements were seen 
by the Observer, and she came down to attack 
us. But Captain Tucker cried out in a threaten- 
ing voice : 

‘‘We are ready for you, sir, two to one. 
Come on ! ’ ^ 


240 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Our men already had control of the Elizabeth, 
and turned with our frigate to attack the new- 
comer. Finding she had got to face the guns of 
two vessels instead of one, the brig thought dis- 
cretion the better part of valor, and attempted 
to run away. A broadside poured into her 
quickly changed that plan, however, and she 
ran down her flag. 

The sloop of war Howe, supposing her consort 
was going to fight, had ranged up towards, and 
now fired upon us. Whereupon Captain Tucker 
shouted : 

^‘Captain Frazer, if you fire another broad- 
side, Ifil blow you out of the water. Sur- 
render ! ^ ’ 

The captain of the sloop evidently thought it 
prudent to do so, and obeyed the command. It 
was an easy matter for us then to pick up the 
two ships, and we took all five of the vessels 
safely into port. 

In November we were back again in Philadel- 
phia, where we received orders to put our frig- 
ate into thorough order for a special service. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


241 


Wliile this work was going on there was much 
speculation among us — the younger officers of 
the ship — as to the character of this mission. 
But we did not know until the beginning of the 
following month what was really expected of 
us. Then Captain Tucker received this official 
order : 


^‘Philadelphia, December 15, 1779. 
To Captain Samuel Tucker, 

Commanding the frigate Boston, 

Sir: — You are hereby directed to put to sea 
in your ship at the earliest possible moment, and 
proceed with all despatch to Charleston, South 
Carolina, where your vessel will join the fleet of 
Commodore Whipple, now gathering there for 
the defense of that town. On your arrival there 
you will take all further orders from him. 

By order of 

The Naval Committee.’^ 

The reason for this order was already known 
to us. Sir Henry Clinton, taking advantage of 
the withdrawal of the French fleet under the 
command of Admiral D’Estang from Savannah, 


242 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


in the previous October, to the West Indies for 
winter quarters, had despatched a large land 
and naval force from New York to besiege that 
town. Rumors were already multiplying that 
its fall was certain, and would be followed by 
an immediate attack on Charleston. Hoping to 
save the latter place Congress had directed Gen- 
eral Lincoln, who was in command of the Con- 
tinental army in the south, to hasten to its de- 
fense, and meantime was collecting a fleet there 
to aid the land forces. 

In five days we were ready to sail, and on 
Christmas day entered the harbor of Charleston. 
In order for the reader to understand the events 
which transpired there during the next three 
months, it will be necessary for him to have cer- 
tain facts clearly in his mind. He should re- 
member that the town lies on a neck of low 
land, a peninsula, formed by the junction of the 
Ashley and Cooper rivers, whose confluence 
makes a harbor two miles wide, and seven miles 
long, facing southeast to the ocean. The width 
of the Ashley river at its mouth is about twenty- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


243 


one hundred yards, and the width of the Cooper 
not far from fourteen hundred. Down the har- 
bor, and bounding it on its sea side, are the 
Sullivan and James islands, the former being 
the site of Fort Moultrie, and the latter that 
of Fort Johnson. 

At the time of our arrival the British had not 
yet appeared, but during the next five weeks 
they came in constantly increasing numbers, 
until there was a land force of ten thousand 
men, and a naval force consisting of a ship of 
fifty guns, two of forty-four guns each, and 
four of thirty-two guns each, besides numerous 
transports and smaller vessels, ranging from 
six to twenty-four guns. 

To oppose these formidable forces General 
Lincoln could rely upon only fifteen hundred 
regular troops, and such militia as could be 
drawn from the surrounding country — in all 
less than four thousand men; while the armed 
vessels numbered five : the schooner Providence, 
Commodore Whipple’s flagship, mounting 
eighteen guns; the frigate Ranger, Captain 


244 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Tliomas Sampson, carrying twenty-four guns; 
the frigate Boston, Captain Samuel Tucker, 
with twenty-four guns; the frigate Queen of 
France, Captain John Peck Rathhone, with 
twenty guns; and the state brig, Notre Dame, 
with twelve guns. 

To check the advance of the enemy up the 
harbor our ships were stretched across the chan- 
nel between Port Moultrie and Fort Johnson, 
while in the former garrison there was a force 
of three hundred picked men, and in the latter 
one hundred. 

Up to the first of February, though there had 
been some slight skirmishing, the British still 
remained in the outer harbor, while we held 
possession of the inner harbor and the town. 
But early in that month active operations were 
begun to dislodge us, or compel our surrender. 

Early one morning our lookout forward 
noticed that all of the British transports and 
some of the men of war were hoisting their 
anchors, and preparing to sail. He reported 
his discovery to the officer of the deck, who 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


245 


promptly notified Captain Tucker. He came up 
from the cabin, and signalled the movement to 
the Commodore, who sent a man into the cross- 
trees of the flagship to watch the enemy. Wlien 
the departing vessels had disappeared behind 
Morris island. Commodore Whipple ran up a 
signal for the Boston to send out a yawl to 
watch the month of Wappoo creek, and in case 
the British attempted to land in that vicinity 
to announce the fact by firing three swivel guns. 
He added: 

‘‘I will send a boat along with yours. 

I was put in command of the yawl from our 
frigate, and Lieutenant Haines had charge of 
the boat from the Providence. His superior 
rank made him commander of the expedition, 
and together we proceeded down the creek to 
its mouth, and, lying to there, waited for the 
coming of the English vessels. 

Soon they appeared below Morris Island, but 
instead of rounding it, and sailing up our way, 
they kept straight on down the coast. 


246 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


‘‘What does that meanf^’ asked Lieutenant 
Haines, turning to me. 

I studied the situation for a moment or two 
before I replied. Then I said : 

“They are going farther down the shore to 
land. They know if they come up here our 
vessels can put themselves into a position where, 
if they do not prevent the landing, they can 
make it a terribly costly thing to undertake. 
But dropping a few miles down the coast, they 
can land without any interference from us. We 
haven T a sufficient land force to send a part 
down there to stop them. The ships they have 
left in the lower harbor are enough to prevent 
our fleet from following them, and there isnT 
water enough for our craft to- slip out this back 
way. So they can take their time, and disem- 
bark the troops without fear of being disturbed 
by us. ’ ’ 

“I believe you are right,’’ the lieutenant re- 
sponded. ‘ ‘ Sir Henry Clinton has got his think- 
ing cap on at last. W^ell, this is so different from 
what our Commodore expected I will send you 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


247 


back to report. Meantime I will follow the 
enemy down the shore. ’ ’ 

^‘And shall I return to you with the new or- 
ders ? ’ ’ 

^ ^ Certainly, if there are any. ^ ’ 

Up the creek and down to the flagship I went 
as fast as a dozen stout arms could pull the 
yawl. Commodore Whipple was at the railing 
when I reached the side of the vessel, and re- 
turning my salute, said : 

Report right where you are. Midshipman. 
What have you discovered ? ’ ’ 

‘^Lieutenant Haines presents his compli- 
ments, sir,^^ I began, “and desires me to say 
that the British ships are going on down the 
coast, and in his judgment are seeking a land- 
ing-place where we cannot follow them or send 
down a land force to prevent them.’’ 

“I surmised as much,” answered the Com- 
modore with a smile. “It is what I should do, 
if I were in charge of those forces. Has Lieu- 
tenant Haines gone down the coast to keep 
watch of them?” 


248 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


^‘I beg your pardon, sir,” I replied. 
should have reported that also, and he wishes 
to know if you have any new orders ! ^ ’ 

‘‘Wait a moment,” he directed, “and I will 
send down to you a day’s rations for the lieu- 
tenant and his men. Then you may go over to 
your own frigate and provision your own boat 
similarly, and return down the shore. When the 
enemy have effected a landing, one of your 
boats may come back to tell me where it has 
been made. The other may remain to watch 
the movements of the red-coats.” 

“Aye, aye, sir!” I replied and gave my men 
the order to pull away. 

In a short time 1 had secured the rations, and 
was. on my way to rejoin Lieutenant Haines. It 
was noon before I overtook him, or rather his 
boat. I found that pulled on the north side of 
John’s Island, thirty miles below Charleston, 
but the lieutenant was not with his men. 

“The British are landing on the other side,” 
the boatswain in charge explained, “and Lieu- 
tenant Haines is over there watching them.” 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


249 


In about an honr he came back. 

‘‘Ahl^’ he said as he canght sight of me, ‘‘I 
thought it was about time for you to be here, 
and they sent down our rations ? I expected it. 
Wedl have dinner right away, and while eating 
it I’ll tell you what I have seen.” 

Kindling a small fire on the beach, we made 
some coffee, and were soon stowing away our 
food with the hearty appetites a keen air had 
created. 

‘ ‘ The British are landing in a small cove al- 
most opposite this, and not over a mile away,” 
the officer said, between his mouthfuls of food. 
‘‘As soon as a regiment is landed, it crosses 
over to the main shore and goes into camp. It 
will take them some hours to complete the task. 
We’ll go over again after a while.” 

Two or three hours later he announced that 
he was ready, and together we made our way 
through the woods to the south side of the 
island. Before we reached there we could 
plainly hear the sounds of the disembarking, 
and my comrade remarked in a low tone : 


250 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


‘ ^ They are not through yet. ’ ’ 

We were soon where we conld see all that 
was going on, and there we lay for a long time 
watching the constantly changing scene. It was 
night before the last company was landed, and 
the order was given for the empty transports 
to return to Charleston harbor under the escort 
of the attending men-of-war. 

‘‘We may as well return to our boats,’’ the 
lieutenant now said, rising and leading the way 
back through the underbrush. When at the 
cove, he continued : 

“You made the first report. I will make this 
one, while you and your men remain here to see 
what movement the red-coats make in the 
morning. ’ ’ 

“All right,” I assented, and then stood there 
watching until his yawl had been lost in the 
darkness which was fast falling. 


CHAPTER XYII 

TAKEN INTO THE BRITISH CAMP 

I stood there, as I have said, watching the dis- 
appearance of Lieutenant Haines’s boat, but I 
was also listening. During my conversation with 
him I was quite sure that I had heard a stealthy 
step in the woods back of me. Doubtless some 
one from the camp of the enemy had discovered 
and was now watching us. If so, they must be 
apprehended, but how! 

Debating this question in my own mind with- 
out acquainting my companions with my sus- 
picions, I gave orders to prepare our camp for 
the night. Our yawl was drawn out of the 


251 


252 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


water, and carried a few rods up from the shore. 
There it was propped up by stones some two 
feet above the ground. Thus it furnished a 
good roof for a temporary cabin, whose sides 
were constructed from brush brought from the 
edge of the forest. In front of this we kindled 
a small fire and began our preparations for sup- 
per. 

While my men were completing these ar- 
rangements, I walked over and stood under a 
huge tree, whose limbs overhung the beach. Os- 
tensibly I was overseeing the work that was 
going on in camp, but in reality I was straining 
my ears to catch every sound which came from 
the woods behind me. It was just there I be- 
lieved I had caught the sound of footsteps, and, 
if I was not mistaken, the intruder was still lying 
within a few feet of me. My plan was to detect 
if possible his attempt to depart, and then fol- 
low him. 

I did not have so long to wait as I expected. 
Before the meal was ready I heard the con- 
cealed man arise to his feet, and move softly 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


253 


back into the woods. Quickly stepping over to 
where Boatswain Lewis was busy directing the 
men, I explained to him in a whisper wh^^ I left 
the camp, and then glided in among the trees in 
pursuit of the Britisher. 

I had no difficulty in locating him. As soon 
as he had gone a few rods away from the shore, 
he seemed to think he was beyond the reach of 
our ears, and now moved on regardless of the 
noise he was making. Moreover, instead of go- 
ing across the island, he had turned and taken 
a short cut for its west end. These circum- 
stances enabled me to overtake him rapidly, and 
I was soon dodging along from tree to tree close 
behind him. 

He soon came out upon the shore, opposite 
the British camp, where a boat and four men 
were evidently awaiting him. To them he said 
in tones loud enough for me to hear : 

have found the rebels^ nest, my lads. But 
one boat with its crew has escaped us, having 
gone back up the coast, to report the landing of 
the troops, I presume. The other is there, and 


254 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


intends to stay until morning to keep watch of 
Sir Henry’s movements. They are, however, 
too many for us, and we ’ll have to cross over 
to the camp for help. Later we’ll return and 
capture the whole bunch. Pull away.” 

^Tiile he was talking his comrades had been 
getting the skift ready for their departure, and 
his last words were uttered as he took his seat 
in the craft. Slowly it glided away towards the 
mainland, and, baflBed in my attempt to obtain a 
prisoner, yet thankful I had discovered his de- 
sign upon myself and men, I turned to retrace 
my steps to camp. 

It was easy for me to conjecture the character 
of the departing men. They were Tories who 
had probably seen our boats go down the coast, 
and, suspecting our purpose, had followed. 
They would report our presence to the British 
commander, and he would send over a force be- 
fore morning sufficient to capture us. It was 
clear that we must change our camp imme- 
diately. 

I therefore quickened my pace, and soon re- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


255 


joined my men, to whom I made known my dis- 
covery. Finding they had put off partaking of 
their supper until my return, I now gave orders 
for the meal to he eaten. Then we tore down 
our temporary structure, launched the boat, and 
proceeded with muffled oars up the shore to the 
northwestern corner of the island. Here we 
again landed, and simply carrying the boat up 
a few feet above tide water, turned it over, 
raised one side a few inches, and crawled under, 
making ourselves as comfortable as possible un- 
der the circumstances. 

I chose this place for our second camp for 
two reasons. It was but a short distance above 
the spot where the force sent to capture us 
would be likely to land, and I argued that it was, 
therefore, the last place where the enemy would 
expect to find us; then, as it was on a narrow 
point, curving to the west and south, it would 
enable us not only to overlook the British en- 
campment on the main shore, but to see the 
crossing and landing of the red-coats when they 


256 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


came in search of ns. My choice, however, 
proved to he a disastrous one, at least for me. 

It must have been near the midnight honr be- 
fore we saw any movement which indicated the 
enemy were coming onr way. All my men, with 
my permission, had gone to sleep except Boat- 
swain Lewis, and it was he who at length called 
my attention to a few lights moving slowly down 
the edge of the narrow strait which separated 
ns from the British encampment. We watched 
them, and in the flicker of their lanterns counted 
at least three score men as they embarked in 
four boats, and put out from the shore. 

‘‘They are coming in strong force, I re- 
marked to my comrade in a low tone. “They 
must count ns desperate fellows.’’ 

“We’d whip them now in a fair fight,” Mas- 
ter Lewis growled, “but to have that number 
come down on ns when we weren’t looking for 
them is another thing. It’s lucky you discov- 
ered their plan, sir, and we got out of their 
way.” 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


257 


^ ‘ Two of the boats are coming up the 
strait,’’ I announced a moment later. ‘‘Can 
it be they are going to land here 1 ’ ’ 

“If so, we’ll have to run,” was the boat- 
swain’s laconic comment. 

All our attention was now given to these two 
boats, and in preparation for their possible 
landing I aroused my men. Rapidly and almost 
noiselessly the yawls came up towards us, but 
instead of attempting to land, they rounded the 
point and went on down the north side of the 
island. 

Master Lewis nudged me. “See!” he ex- 
claimed in a whisper. ‘ ‘ They are sent down to 
cut off our escape frcrn the water side. The 
red-coats don’t mean to give us a chance to get 
out of their clutches.” 

“But look there, sir,” another of my men 
cried out almost aloud, and before I could 
answer Master Lewis. “The land force has 
divided, and a part of them are coming up this 
way ! ” ' 

A single glance told me he was right. Upon 


258 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


landing, the enemy had separated into two 
squads, one going down through the woods, 
doubtless to approach our old camping place 
from the south and east sides; while the other 
was following the shore, to make an attack from 
the west. I immediately thought of Master 
Lewis -s declaration: ‘^The red-coats don’t 
mean to give us a chance to get out of their 
clutches.” They certainly had planned to hem 
us in from all sides, and would succeed if we 
did not move promptly. So I gave the com- 
mand: 

‘‘Quick, lads! Launch the boat! We must 
get away from here at once.” 

They knew this as well as I did, and obeyed 
with alacrity. The next moment they had lifted 
the yawl and were carrying it down to the 
water’s edge. The boats of the enemy were 
already below us, and could we get off the shore 
before the land force discovered our proximity, 
there was still a chance for us to slip away un- 
noticed in the darkness. I believe we should 
have done it hut for an accident. 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


259 


It was quite dark, and in our haste we had no 
time to pick our way. One of my men struck 
against an obstacle, and stumbling, fell to the 
ground, pulling the boat and two or three of his 
companions down upon him. The mishap not 
only made a noise which reached the ears of the 
coming squad, but broke the unfortunate fel- 
low ^s leg. He struggled vainly to regain his 
feet, and then sank back with a groan. 

But he did not forget the danger we were in. 
Had he done so, the yells of the red-coats as 
they quickened their steps to overhaul us, would 
have reminded him of it. Heroically he cried: 

Leave me, sir! There’s time for you and 
your men to escape. ’ ’ 

But that was a thing I would not do, even if 
we were all captured ; and to their credit I will 
say there was not a man among us who would 
have done it. Instead six, at my order, picked 
up the boat and hurried to the water with it, 
while the others raised their injured comrade 
and hastened after them. I closely followed. 

The steps of the coming British sounded dan- 


260 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


gerously near, but we worked calmly. The yawl 
was launched; the suffering sailor was laid 
gently in her; the men took their places; and 
all but Boatswain Lewis and myself had em- 
barked. 

^‘Step in, sir,’’ he said. ‘‘I’ll push the craft 
off.” 

“No,” I commanded, “get in yourself. It is 
my place to be the last. ’ ’ 

I said this, for I knew the enemy were al- 
most upon us, and hoped to save my men, if not 
myself. He obeyed, just as a pair of stout 
hands clutched my shoulders and their owner 
cried : 

“Not so fast, my young gander; we’ll keep 
you with us a while longer, I reckon. ’ ’ 

I did not attempt to resist him. I spent all 
my strength to push off the yawl with my feet. 
A vigorous kick sent her gliding off from the 
shore. 

‘ ‘ Away, lads ! ” I shouted. “You know where 
to go and what to do,” and then I was borne 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


261 


down to the ground, and at least a half dozen 
red-coats held me down. 

Several of the squad followed onr boat into 
the water in their zeal to capture it, but my 
men were too quick for them, and rowed it be- 
yond their reach. Then the Britishers hallooed 
for their own boats to return, and give chase 
to ours. By this time they had allowed me to 
regain my feet, and I again called out : 

‘ ^ Never mind me, lads ! Make good your own 
escape, and finish the work I have left undone. ’ ’ 

“Aye! aye! sir!’^ came the answer across the 
water, and I knew Boatswain Lewis had heard 
and understood my command and would com- 
plete the task assigned to me of reporting the 
movements of the British army. 

I received a blow across my mouth from the 
officer in charge of the squad for my act, accom- 
panied with the surly words : 

‘‘Shut your mouth, you young puppy! But 
for your kick and bark we might have captured 
your boat and crew. I only hope the General 


'262 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


will regard yon as a spy and hang yon to the 
nearest tree.” 

His boats had come back np the shore, and 
now at his order went on in the darkness, hop- 
ing to overhanl my comrades — a thing I am glad 
to say they were not able to do. He then des- 
patched a messenger down the island to inter- 
cept and recall the other land force. These mat- 
ters attended to, he snrronnded me with his 
men and marched off to the place where he had 
landed. When the other sqnad rejoined him, he 
gave the command to retnrn to the camp. There 
I was placed in a tent, in use as a temporary 
guardhouse, and surrounded with soldiers who 
kept watch over m.e until morning. At an early 
hour they carried me into the presence of Gen- 
eral Clinton. 

‘ ‘ So you are the Yankee spy my men captured 
last night?” he demanded sternly. 

‘ ‘ I hardly see how you can call me that, sir, ’ ’ 
I answered as pleasantly as I could. ‘H was not 
taken in your camp.” 

‘‘Do you deny that you were watching my 


IN SHIP AND PPISON 


263 


movements in order to report them to the com- 
mander of the rebel forces he asked. 

‘ ^ No, sir ; I do not, ’ ’ I replied, ‘ ‘ but I have not 
been inside of your lines, and have never in- 
tended to come inside of them. I am simply the 
commander of a boat sent out by our Commo- 
dore to watch your landing — an act I believe 
that makes me a prisoner of war now that I am 
so unfortunate as to be captured, but not a spy. ’ ’ 
‘‘Who are jouV’ he now questioned. 
“Midshipman Arthur Dunn, of the frigate 
Boston/’ I responded, knowing of no reason 
why I should conceal my identity. 

‘ ‘ Oh I ho ! ’ ’ was his quick ejaculation. ‘ ‘ I be- 
lieve there is another frigate on board of which 
they will be glad to see you. Since you have 
deserted her twice, you may not find it hard to 
recall her name. She will be in New York by 
the time I get back there. I am told her com- 
mander has an order from our Naval Board to 
hang you to the nearest yard-arm. So I hi keep 
you and turn you over to him. He can do what 
I perhaps could not legitimately do.’’ 


264 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


I was taken back to the gnardhonse, where I 
was given a frugal breakfast, and then pnt 
under the care of an officer and six men, who 
were given strict commands to shoot me down 
at my first attempt to escape. 

The troops were already breaking camp, and 
all day long I marched with them as they pro- 
ceeded up the coast towards Charleston. At 
night, when they again went into camp, I was 
remanded to the guard tent, where, regardless 
of the number of men they put over me, I threw 
myself on the ground, and, worn and weary, 
sunk into a deep slumber. I was too tired to 
make any attempt to escape. 

How long I slept I do not know, but I was 
awakened by hearing a voice, which I felt sure 
belonged to Lieutenant Haines, demanding an 
immediate entrance to my tent. His demand to 
my surprise was quickly granted, and the next 
instant he stood before me, clad, as I could see 
by the light which came through the doorway 
from an adjacent campfire, in the uniform of an 
English officer. Holding up his hand to check 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


265 


the exclamation which had risen to my lips, he 
said sternly: 

Young man, the General wishes to see you 
at once. Follow me!’’ 

I arose and followed him out by the guards, 
who made no attempt to stop us. Once in the 
open air, he quickly led me into the shadow of 
some trees, and whispered in my ear : 

‘‘Not a word, now, sir. I’ll explain every- 
thing later. Put on these clothes over your 
own,” and he took from the bosom of his own 
coat the uniform of a British soldier. It took 
me but a minute or two to comply with his re- 
quest, and, having donned the disguise, I stalked 
along after him towards the nearest outposts. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

THE BEACON HOUSE LIGHT EXPEDITION, 

I had supposed that my guide knew some un- 
guarded spot along the edge of the great forest 
beside which the camp had been pitched, and 
would slip out unnoticed there. But instead he 
led me straight down to the picket who held 
the outpost on the road leading up to Charles- 
ton. To his peremptory challenge he an- 
swered : ‘ ‘ Friendly, ^ ’ and at the command gave 
the countersign : ‘ ^ King George. ’ ^ 

‘Ht’s all right. Captain Aylesworth, ’ ’ the 
man said. recognized you at once, but I 
had to obey orders. I was told to let no one 
in or out of the camp without the password.’’ 


266 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


267 


‘ ‘ And by it proved yon were a good soldier; ’ ’ 
the supposed captain replied pleasantly. ‘‘This 
is the other attendant I told you I had returned 
for. I find the special business I am on needs 
another helper. I will vouch for him.’’ 

So I was allowed to pass with the officer, and 
in a few minutes we were beyond the reach of 
a recall. 

“Tell me now, Lieutenant Haines, how you 
came to be here, and arranged so successfully 
the plan that has given me my liberty,” I said. 

“Not yet. Master Dunn,” he replied, turning 
into a side path which led towards the sea. 
“Wait until we are safe in my boat.” 

A half mile farther on we came out upon a 
small creek. A shrill whistle from the lieuten- 
ant brought an answering whistle from down 
the stream, and in a moment his yawl came up 
to the bank. As it reached us the boatswain 
hashed out a dark lantern, and I noticed the 
craft held two prisoners — one dressed in the 
lieutenant’s garb, and the other wrapped in a 
blanket. 


268 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


‘‘Captain Aylesworth, ’ ’ my conductor now 
said, addressing the officer, “your uniform and 
that of your attendant have served my purpose 
well, and my friend, as you see, is with me. 
We will now exchange our clothing, and you 
and he are at liberty to return to your camp.’’ 

The Englishman bowed stiffly, and without a 
word resumed his own uniform. The soldier 
as quickly donned the garments I gave him, and 
then the two hurried away by the path down 
which the lieutenant and I had so recently come. 

We did not stop to watch them, but, stepping 
into the yawl, glided rapidly down the creek to 
its mouth. Once out on the ocean our bow was 
turned to the north, and as twelve strong arms 
pulled us along. Lieutenant Haines told his 
story : 

“Wlien your boat, under the impetus of your 
vigorous kick, glided away from John’s Island, 
it was the intention of your boatswain to put 
in somewhere along the main shore, and still 
keep watch of the movements of the British 
army. But the sufferings of the injured sailor 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


269 


led him to change his plan, and he decided to 
return immediately to the frigate. 

‘‘He arrived there in the morning, and his 
report of your capture filled your captain with 
consternation. 

‘ ‘ ‘ The lad will give his right name, ’ he said, 
‘and they’ll recognize him as a runaway from 
the Saint George and likely as not will hang 
him; or else they will regard him as a spy, 
though he was not caught within their lines, and 
string him up to the nearest tree. We must 
act quickly, or we cannot save him.’ 

“So he took the boatswain and came right 
over to the Providence to see the Commodore. 
I was present at the interview, and assure you 
that Master Lewis gave a glowing account of 
how you discovered the prying Tory, learned 
his purpose, and planned to thwart it. He grew 
even more enthusiastic when he related how 
you would not leave your injured man, or allow 
him to he the last one on the boat, and, though 
captured yourself, pushed him and his com- 
rades out of the reach of the enemy.” 


270 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


^‘Did he tell you what a fool I was to make 
my second camp at the head of the island?” I 
mterrupted. ‘‘If I had only gone over to the 
main shore, as I should have done, I should not 
have made such a mess of the atfair as I did.” 

“Your movement was a perfectly natural 
one, and such as I should have made had I been 
there,” he returned warmly; “and, though the 
enemy did come upon you in such overwhelm- 
ing numbers, and surrounded you on every side, 
you would have escaped but for the accident 
to your man — a thing you could not help. 
ThaPs my view of the matter, and also the 
Commodore ^s for he said : 

“ ‘ A lad who can stand by his men like that, 
Captain Tucker, has the making of a hero in 
him. He’s worth saving;’ and then he turned 
to me: 

“ ‘Lieutenant Haines,’ he said, ‘get ready 
your boat and return to the British encampment. 
Seek an interview under a flag of truce with 
the British general. If you find he intends to 
hang the boy, assure him that I shall hang two 



He soon came upon the shore, where a boat and four men were 
evidently awaiting him. 


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IN SHIP AND PRISON 


271 


British officers in his place, one of whom is his 
own nephew. If he is willing to make an ex- 
change, tell him I will give him two men of 
equal rank for the lad, or one of superior rank 
— his nephew, if he wishes. We’ll let him know 
he cannot treat his young prisoner lightly. ’ 

‘‘In fifteen minutes I was off. The British 
troops, as you know, had moved up this way, 
and I reached them during their noon halt. 
Taking two of my men with me under a flag of 
truce, I asked for an interview with the com- 
mander. It was granted me, but I was never 
more coldly received. To my proposition for 
an exchange the general said haughtily : 

“ ‘Tell your commander I would not ex- 
change the midshipman for himself. ’ 

“To my threat he answered with a cruel 
laugh : 

“ ‘I know who my prisoner is, and why you 
are making such an effort to secure his release. 
Twice he has escaped our hands, but he shall 
not again. I want the satisfaction of seeing 
him hung, and hang he shall, though your com- 


272 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


mander strings up a dozen men in his place/ 

‘‘Of course, I knew nothing more could be 
done with so obdurate an officer, and left the 
camp. But right here let me say if you ever 
again fall into the hands of the enemy, don^t 
give your right name. There seems to be a 
general order out for your apprehension, in 
both the army and navy. ^ ^ 

“I know it,’’ I assented, “and for that reason 
I appreciate all the more what you have done 
for me. Lieutenant Haines. But how did that 
come about?” 

“In the simplest way,” he continued. 
“Though I left the camp, I did not leave the 
vicinity of the army. Going back to my boat, 
I kept along the shore, moving about as rapidly 
as the troops did, and when they stopped for 
the night, I ran into that creek where we found 
my boat. Again, taking two men with me, I 
went up near to the outposts, looking for an op- 
portunity to rescue you. I was all the more 
determined to do this because the General had 
declared you should not escape again. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


273 


^‘Well, the opportunity came sooner and in 
a better way than I had anticipated. While 
my men and I were lying in a thicket waiting 
for the darkness to fall, we heard voices. Soon 
two men came up the road, and I heard one say : 

‘‘ ‘You are sure, Tom, that you know the 
way?’ 

“ ‘Never fear about that. Captain Ayles- 
worth,’ the other replied. ‘I can take you to 
Colonel Nutter’s plantation on the darkest 
night. It isn’t over two miles from here, and 
we’ll be there in time for you to take supper 
with his family. ’ 

“I am, as you may know, a South Carolin- 
ian, and at once recognized the name of Colonel 
Nutter as that of a rank Tory and a leader of 
the Tory forces in this part of the colony. 
Doubtless he was a personal friend of this Cap- 
tain Ayles worth, who, finding himself near his 
residence, was going to make him a visit. 

“No sooner had I thought of this when there 
flashed into my brain a plan by which I was cer- 
tain I could secure your liberty. Motioning my 


274 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


men to follow me, I kept on the trail of the 
two men until we were well away from the 
camp. Then we sprang upon them. Taken by 
surprise, we had no trouble in effecting their 
capture, and bringing them down to my boat. 

‘‘There I made the captain change uniforms 
with me, and took that of the soldier along for 
your use when I should find you. Then I re- 
turned to the lines. As soon as it was dark 
enough to conceal my face, I approached the 
nearest guard, with some misgiving I admit, 
yet determined in some way to pass him. When 
he challenged me, I replied : 

“*‘I am Captain Aylesworth, who passed you 
an hour or two ago. ’ 

“ ‘I remember,’ he answered, ‘but you had a 
man with you then. ’ 

“ ‘Yes,’ I agreed, ‘and I’ve got to have 
another, and so have returned for him.’ 

“He allowed me to pass, but I was not a 
dozen feet away when he called out abruptly: 

“‘The password, sir. You’ll have to give 
that.’ 


IN SHIP AND PBISON 


275 


^‘Here was a poser. I did not know what it 
was, but I did not want to go back, so I started 
to parley with him. 

H^^ing George hasn’t a more loyal sup- 
porter,’ I began to say but had only uttered 
the first two words, when to my delight he ex- 
claimed : 

‘That’s it, sir; you may go on,’ and on I 
went. 

“It took some time to locate the tent you 
were in, and the half dozen men about it did 
not look very promising for your release. But 
again bold effrontery served me well. Walking 
straight up to the guard at the door, I told him 
the General desired another interview with you, 
and had sent me to conduct you to him. The 
uniform I wore was his assurance that my de- 
mand was genuine, and I was admitted to your 
presence. I am now wondering what the Gen- 
eral will say when he finds you are gone,” and 
he finished his tale with a chuckle. 

“It is useless for me to thank you for what 
jrou have done for me tonight,” I began. 


276 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


^‘Tliat is what I think/’ he responded with 
a laugh, “sol wouldn ’t say anything about it. ’ ’ 
Then he added with intense feeling: “Arthur 
Dunn, the red-coats have burned my home over 
the heads of my aged father and mother; they 
have slain my only brother — a lad of your age, 
and of whom you remind me. In return for 
this, I have sworn that I will do them all the 
injury I can. I know of nothing that will pro- 
voke the British authorities more than your 
escape, and that is all the compensation I 
need. ’ ’ 

It was not yet midnight, and before the sun 
rose I was again on board the Boston. As I 
went over the rail, my own w^atch was in charge 
of the deck, and at sight of me they broke into 
three rousing cheers. The noise awakened 
Captain Tucker, and learning the cause of it, 
he sent for me. No father could have greeted 
me more warmly, and almost his first words 
were those Lieutenant Haines had spoken a 
few hours earlier : 

“If you again fall into the hands of the 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


277 


enemy, don’t give yonr right name,” a bit of 
advice I had already made np my mind to fol- 
low. 

At the close of the following day the British 
forces arrived at Wappoo Creek, near James 
Island, and south of the Ashley River. Here 
they began to throw up entrenchments and pre- 
pare themselves for a siege. Their naval forces 
at the same time drew a little nearer the inner 
harbor, and formed a line across its entrance 
so as to blockade it. They also took possession 
of Beacon House Light, and put a small force 
within it, and a frigate a few fathoms off shore 
to protect it with her cannon. These move- 
ments were a part of the spiral which during 
the next two months they wove about the town 
and which eventually hemmed it in. 

From this time also there was continual 
activity on land and water between our forces — 
now and then a pitched battle, more often a 
skirmishing, frequently a naval duel, constantly 
an endeavor on their part to advance, and no 


278 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


less constantly an effort on our part to check 
them or to drive them back. 

I shall write only of those incidents of which 
I was a part. Possibly through Lieutenant 
Haines, who seemed to have taken a great in- 
terest in me, I shared in some of the more dan- 
gerous undertakings, but I would by no means 
have the reader think we were the only ones 
who were doing anything. The fact is that every 
man on land or sea was in service — every 
soldier and every sailor was instant in season 
and out of season during the days and nights 
that now followed. I did not hear of a single 
shirker, nor do I know of a case where anyone 
in those days tried to favor himself. If there 
was ever an army of heroes, the men under 
General Lincoln deserved that title. If there 
was ever a gallant naval force, the officers and 
crews of our ships won the appellation over 
and over again. The story never has been 
told — nor can it ever be told — of what was en- 
dured and suffered and done by that little army 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


279 


and smaller navy in their efforts to save the 
town. 

Scarcely had the British ships moved up the 
outer harbor when Lieutenant Haines paid me 
a visit. When we were alone in my mess-room, 
he said in a low tone : 

^‘Master Dunn, are you ready to go with me 
on what may prove a perilous undertaking T’ 

^‘Yes,” I answered promptly, and waited for 
him to make such disclosures as seemed wisest 
to him. 

He smiled. ^^Your promptness does you 
credit,’^ he continued, ‘‘but let me first tell 
you the nature of my mission. The enemy have, 
as you know, captured Beacon House Light, 
and the Commodore has learned there was a 
special reason for it. Some Tory friend has 
furnished the British admiral with a chart of 
the harbor — its channels and its courses — the 
Beacon Light serving as a center from which 
they take all their bearings. If the Light can be 
destroyed now, their drawing, if not rendered 
entirely useless, will at least not be so service- 


280 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


able, and so Commodore Wbipple has asked me 
to undertake its destruction. I have consented, 
and on the first favorable night shall make the 
attempt. I shall take fifteen men with me, and, 
if yon are ready to accompany me, will ask yon 
to take the same number. ’ ’ 

am as ready to go now as I was before 
yon told me what we were to do,’’ I declared. 

Again he smiled. ^‘I expected it, and yet let 
me state wherein onr peril lies. First, we must 
have a dark, stormy night for the enterprise or 
else we cannot get through the British fleet, and 
we run the risk which naturally comes to open 
boats in a raging sea. Then, should we pass 
the fleet and overpower the men in the Light 
and succeed in destroying it, we shall have an 
aroused enemy to escape on our return. I re- 
gard it as about an even chance for us to go 
down to the Light undiscovered; but to come 
back in safety the odds are all against us.” 

Still I shall go,” I asserted unhesitatingly. 

‘‘Commodore Whipple will speak to Captain 
Tucker, asking that you be assigned to this 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


281 


work, and I will then give you further details 
of my plan,’’ the lieutenant added as he arose 
to depart. 

Two days later there came a storm from the 
south-east. Before sundown the rain poured 
in torrents, and the wind blew in great gusts. 
As night came on it became so dark one could 
not see a boat ’s length away. It was the favor- 
able time for which we had been waiting, and 
I was not surprised to receive word from Lieu- 
tenant Haines to be ready to start at eight 
0 ’clock. 

When the hour came I was in the ship’s cut- 
ter with my men awaiting the signal from the 
Providence. My oars were muffled, and a dark 
lantern was so arranged as to throw light only 
on the compass by which I was to steer. Almost 
immediately the signal came — a light flashed 
three times over the schooner’s rail. I knew 
that at that instant the lieutenant left her side, 
but I could not make out his boat. It mattered 
little, however; for by pre-arrangement, we 
were to run through the British fleet in differ- 


282 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


ent courses, and, if the passage was successful, 
were to meet at a little cove just north of the 
Light. If one boat failed, the other was to 
carry out the assigned task. So I gave the 
command to my crew : 

‘ ^ Pull away, lads ! ^ ’ 

The next minute we dashed away through 
the rain and against the wind and tide upon 
our perilous passage. 


CHAPTER XIX 

WE BOARD A CARTEL SHIP 

In a short time I became convinced of two 
things. First, that we would have no difficulty 
in running through the British fleet unnoticed. 
The storm was so severe every patrol boat had 
been withdrawn ; the darkness was so heavy we 
could not be seen ten feet away; the wind and 
sea made so much noise that whatever sounds 
came from us would pass unheard. I dismissed 
therefore all apprehension on this point imme- 
diately. The other matter was more serious, 
and soon became a struggle for life. It was 
the battle with the storm. To pull against it 


283 


284 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


took all the strength of my men; to keep the 
yawl true to her course was an impossibility; 
to prevent onr craft from filling and sinking 
took the united efforts of four of the crew. 

We gained our way slowly. The lights of the 
British vessels showed that. At length we were 
among the upper craft, and guided by them, 
I strove to swing back to the course from which 
I had seriously deviated. The combined 
strength of Boatswain Lewis and myself could 
not hold our helm to its place. Twice we swung 
dangerously near the enemy’s ships. Once we 
passed directly under the stern of a frigate 
but we were unseen and unheard. At length we 
were clear of the fleet, and now the Beacon 
House Light itself became our guide. 

Two hours had been allowed in the arranging 
of our plans for us to reach the little cove 
where we were to make our rendezvous; four 
had elapsed before we reached there, only to 
find ourselves alone. 

The agreement between Lieutenant Haines 
and myself was that whoever arrived there first 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


285 


was to wait one hour for the coming of the 
other party. But that had been on the suppo- 
sition that two hours were ample to make the 
passage to the cove even against the storm. 

It was now midnight, an hour later than I 
would have waited had I reached the rendez- 
vous on time. Had Lieutenant Haines arrived 
there, and, after waiting the allotted time, gone 
on to the light house? I looked long and earn- 
estly towards the beacon, but there was nothing 
in the shadows behind, or the rays in front, to 
give me a definite answer. I confess I was 
puzzled. I did not know whether to wait my 
hour there, or to go on immediately to the 
tower. I finally decided on the former course. 
I would obey my directions to the letter. 

Slowly the minutes passed — so slowly that 
again and again I put my watch to my ears to 
make sure it had not stopped. A half hour; 
another quarter had come and gone, and I was 
overhauling the materials I had brought for the 
destruction of the Light in case the sole re- 
sponsibility devolved upon me, when my ear 


286 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


caught the faint sound of oars. I listened, and 
the sound was more distinct, then the lieuten- 
ant’s yawl came out of the gloom and touched 
the shore at my feet. 

‘^Did you reach here. Master Dunn, without 
capsizing?” were the officer’s first words. 

‘^Yes, sir,” I replied. 

‘ ‘ Then you did better than I, ” he responded, 
and as he stepped ashore I saw he was as wet 
as a drowned rat. His men were also in the 
same condition. 

^ ^ Our rudder broke just after we ran through 
the fleet,” he explained, ‘‘and before we could 
do anything to prevent it, the yawl broached to, 
and shipping a ton or more of water, went over. 
We lost one man, and the entire contents of the 
craft except some extra oars which were fas- 
tened inside. With much difficulty we righted 
her, bailed her out with our tarpaulins, and, 
crawling back into her, finally succeeded in 
reaching here, but in a sorry condition to carry 
out our assigned task. I am glad you arrived 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


287 


in better shape. How long have yon been 
here?’’ 

‘‘Nearly an hour, sir. I was waiting out fhe 
allotted time before I went on to the Light.” 

“That was right,” he said heartily, “for it 
gives me a chance to share in the work. Five 
minutes to one,” he added, glancing at his 
watch in the light of my dark lantern; “not so 
late as I had feared. There is still time to 
complete our job and get back to our ships.” 

“We shall have the wind and tide with 
us, and can make our return much more rapid- 
ly,” I suggested. 

“Yes, if the enemy does not prevent,” he ad- 
mitted. “But the moment the beacon is in 
flames they will be on the alert for us, and 
having fresh men at the oars may run us down. 
We took that chance, however, when we decided 
to come here.” 

We now took the powder and oil cans from 
my boat, and distributed them among our crews 
to carry. Then ten of us with our hands free 
to use our cutlasses placed ourselves at the 


288 


IN SHIP AND PBISON 


head of the squad, and we began our march 
across the point to the light house. 

This was a huge structure, built partly of 
stone and partly of hard pine logs. The door, 
fortunately for us, was on the rear side of the 
building, and towards this we made our way. 
Reaching it without discovery, we paused a 
moment to listen. The lantern at the top of 
the tower shone brightly, but all the rest of the 
building loomed up darkly above our heads. No 
sound. came from within. The inmates, what- 
ever their number, were evidently asleep, save 
perhaps the single watchman to care for the 
lantern. 

My own plan, had I come alone, was to force 
open the door and seize the men within before 
they could recover from their surprise. But 
Lieutenant Haines had arranged to obtain by 
ruse what I should have gained by force. Rais- 
ing the hilt of his sword, he pounded loudly on 
the door. Twice he was compelled to do this, 
and then a sleepy voice asked : 

‘ ^ Who ’s there ? Wliat do you want ? ’ ’ 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


289 


‘^Our boat is ashore. We want shelter for 
the rest of the night/’ the officer answered as 
though he belonged to the British patrol. 

‘‘Aye! aye! sir,” came the response, “I’ll be 
there in a moment. ’ ’ 

There was a shnffiing of feet and then the 
door was thrown wide open for us. Springing 
in, we seized the attendant before he could 
make the slightest resistance. There were six 
other men, all in their bunks, and, though roused 
by our entrance, they had no time to get their 
weapons before we had made them prisoners. 
Then the seven were taken down to our boats 
under a strong guard, there to await our com- 
ing. 

We were now ready for our work of destruc- 
tion. Tearing out a half dozen places in the 
foundation of the building, we placed canisters 
of powder within them. From these long 
strings of oakum, well saturated with oil, were 
carried to the center of the house. Here a huge 
pile of combustibles was made, oil was spread 
on walls and floors and stairs, the front win- 


290 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


dows were darkened to hide the flames from 
that side, a rear window was left open for 
draft — and all was ready. 

Sending the men otf to the yawls, the lieuten- 
ant and I knelt down, and with flint and steel 
started a blaze in the heap of combustibles. 
Watching it until sure the fire was really kin- 
dled, we slipped out the door and ran for the 
cove. 

There we halted and fastened our eyes upon 
the burning building. Through the rear door 
and window we could see the flames as they 
gained headway. Across the floor, up the walls 
they ran, and streaming out through the open- 
ings threw a great glare upon the dark curtain 
of the night. It was clear our work had been 
well done, and the structure was doomed. Then 
Lieutenant Haines turned to his prisoners, say- 
ing : 

‘ ‘ Good sirs, we leave you here simply because 
we have no room for you in the boats. Possibly 
the nearest frigate will send a boat for you; if 
not, you will be no more exposed to the gale 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


291 


than we are. One word of warning to yon, how- 
ever. We have placed six kegs of powder in 
yonder walls. It will, therefore, be well for you 
to keep a long distance from the fire. Good- 
night, ' ’ and with that he gave the order for us 
to embark. 

Our plan for the return was to keep near the 
shore until opposite Sullivan Island, then dash 
quickly to the south to enter the upper bay 
through the passage between Morris and Sulli- 
van Islands. This course would enable us to 
run before the wind for a large part of the way, 
would keep us out of the glare of the burning 
building, and would also make it impossible for 
the enemy to follow us except in small boats. 

For a short distance our boats kept together, 
probably because we were all more intent on 
watching the fire than we were in making our 
escape. Soon there came an explosion, followed 
in rapid succession by five others. Stones and 
logs were tossed high in the air ; the great tower 
tottered and then fell with a crash which sound- 
ed loud above the storm; sparks and embers 


292 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


flew in every direction; the flames burst out 
anew as though they would devour everything 
before them. 

‘ ‘ She ’s destroyed ! ’ ’ I shouted, but if the lieu- 
tenant heard me he made no answer. I glanced 
in the direction his boat had been but a moment 
before, and saw that it had disappeared, lost 
in the darkness. 

^ ‘ Give way, my lads ! ” I said to my own men, 
and they obeyed with a will. 

As we went up the bay I could see signs that 
the enemy were aroused. Lights flashed to and 
fro on the decks of the frigates. The one near- 
est the Beacon House fired a cannon, and then 
put out a boat which hastened to the shore. 

They 11 soon know the fire was not an acci- 
dent, ^ ’ I remarked to my boatswain, ‘ ‘ and may 
attempt to follow us.’’ 

‘Ht will do them no good, sir,” he answered. 
^^We have too long a start for them to over- 
haul us. Our fear is yonder as we cross out 
to the channel. If I mistake not, one of the 


IN SHIP AND PKISON 


293 


ships has hoisted her anchor, and is coming 
np this way/’ 

I looked in the direction he indicated, and 
saw by her rapidly moving lights that one of 
the vessels had certainly cast otf her moorings 
and was running np the bay. 

“ We must reach and cross the channel before 
her,” I declared. “Heave away, lads!” 

^ ‘ Aye ! aye ! sir ! ’ ’ they responded, and bent to 
their oars. 

Without waiting to go higher up the bay, I 
had our helm changed to carry us out towards 
Gumming ’s Point. But fast as we went, the 
ship came faster. It seemed also that she was 
shaping her course to head us off. 

“Eun up under Sullivan’s Island,” I directed 
Master Lewis. “If necessary, we’ll beach the 
boat and seek protection in Fort Moultrie.” 

He promptly turned our bow that way, and 
the coming vessel changed her own course just 
enough to follow in our wake. 

“She must see us!” I now exclaimed in my 


surprise. 


294 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


looks so, but I do not see how,’’ the boat- 
swain admitted in a puzzled way. 

‘‘Change again towards the point,” I or- 
dered. 

He did so, and again the ship turned. All the 
while she had been gaining rapidly upon us, and 
now was so near I was anxious lest she run us 
down. 

“Port! Port your helm!” I cried, hoping in 
that way to swing clear of her. But we were 
too late. I had only time to call to my men 
to save themselves by springing upon her deck, 
as she cut our yawl in two. 

Following the advice I had given my men, 
I leaped for her rail. She was not so large nor 
so high out of water as she had seemed when 
farther down the bay, and I caught the railing 
and pulled myself up on her deck. Rising, I 
shook the water from my clothing, and then 
heard a voice near me say : 

“I’m right along with you, sir.” It was Boat- 
swain Lewis. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


295 


‘^So am I,’’ another and then another voice 
exclaimed. 

The same cry came from the larboard rail, 
and I was sure that half of my men at least had 
escaped the disaster — but escaped into the 
enemy’s hands. To my amazement, however, 
little attention was paid to us. Her officers 
and men seemed too busy with the care of their 
ship for that. 

Standing near her foremast with my men, I 
slowly took all this in, and came to the con- 
clusion that the craft had broken her anchor 
chains and driven up the bay before the gale. 
All her courses had been due to attempts to pre- 
vent her wreck, and to get back to her anchor- 
age, and not to her efforts to follow me. In 
fact, as I learned a little later, she had not seen 
us at all, and had no idea we were in that local- 
ity until she ran us down. 

Soon an officer passed near us in the discharge 
of his duties. 

Where is your captain P’ I asked. 


296 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


the quarter deck,’’ he replied. ‘‘AVho 
are you?” 

‘‘One of the men you just ran down.” 

“A Yankee officer?” 

“Yes.” 

‘ ‘ Do you know the inner harbor ? ’ ’ 

“Yes.” 

“Come with me.” 

He led me aft to his commander, and in a 
few words explained who I was and how I came 
there. 

“He says he knows the upper bay,” the sub- 
ordinate continued. 

“I am Captain Jackson,” the skipper then 
said. “This is the cartel ship, and we have 
lost our anchors, leaving us at the mercy of 
the storm. There are a number of refugees 
on board, including several women and chil- 
dren. For their sake the vessel must be saved. 
If you can put us into the inner bay where we 
can ride out the storm, or beach the craft in 
safety, I will give you charge of her. ’ ’ 

I thought a moment. Then I answered : 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


297 


^ ‘ I believe I can bring yon near enough to our 
frigate for them to throw us a hawser, sir, and 
you can then ride out the storm.’’ 

‘‘Do you suppose they will allow me to return 
when the gale is over, or will consider me a 
prize I” he inquired. 

“I cannot say what our commander will do, 
sir,” I responded, “but if I were in command 
of our fleet the character of your ship would 
protect you.” 

“I must take the risk,” he concluded, and 
turned the wheel over to me. 

I ran in behind Gumming ’s Point for smooth- 
er waters, and then took a straight course up 
the bay past Fort Johnson. I could now see 
the lights of the Boston^ and headed directly 
for her. 

At my suggestion Boatswain Lewis was sent 
into our bow to hail the frigate. In his power- 
ful voice he called out to her as we drew near, 
proclaiming our character, and asking for a 
rope. I had to luff to under her stern in order 
to get it, but at length it reached us, and, mak- 


298 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


ing ourselves fast, we held on there until morn- 
ing. 

I now took the opportunity to muster my 
men, and found that all but four had succeeded 
in clambering to the deck of the cartel ship. 
The missing four turned up the next day. They 
had clung to the broken boat and drifted ashore 
on Sullivan ^s Island. Lieutenant Haines 
reached the Providence without further mishap. 

After consultation with Commodore Whipple 
the next day. Captain Tucker was able to in- 
form Captain Jackson that his vessel would be 
allowed to return to the English fleet. He had 
to wait twenty-four hours before the storm 
had abated sufficiently to permit him to sail, 
but when the hour came for him to depart, he 
and his officers and passengers signed and sent 
a letter of thanks to our commander for the 
kindness shown them while in our lines. 


CHAPTER XX 

CHAKLESTON IS TAKEN 

I know that Captain Tucker greatly appre- 
ciated this act of Captain Jackson and his 
friends, but he could not have been so elated 
as were Lieutenant Haines and I over the 
thanks we received the day after the departure 
of the cartel ship. 

Master John Rutledge, the governor of the 
colony, sent for us to call upon him at his resi- 
dence in the town. When we were in his pres- 
ence he said : 

^Wou, then, are the officers who were in com- 
mand of the squad that destroyed the Beacon 
House Light?” 


299 


300 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


We bowed our assent. 

have requested you to call here today, my 
good sirs,” he continued, ^Hhat I may extend 
to you personally my thanks for the very 
efficient manner in which you performed your 
task. ’ ^ 

We hastened to assure him we had only done 
our duty. 

Admit that,” he responded with a smile, 
^‘you nevertheless did your work so well you 
deserve this acknowledgment from me. I am 
glad one of you is a native of this colony, and 
that the other is from the colony of Massa- 
chusetts. It shows that the same intrepid spirit 
is to be found in our patriots whether they 
come from the north or from the south. It is 
the hope of our final success in this struggle for 
our independence.” 

I know my own face fiushed with pleasure at 
his words, and I am equally sure that the face 
of Master Haines did. 

‘H called you here, however,” the governor 
went on, ‘^not only to thank you for what you 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


301 


have done, but to ask you to do something 
else.’’ 

‘AVe are ready,” we replied together. 

“I wish you to destroy Fort Johnson,” he 
said, and paused to mark the effect of his words 
upon us. 

We looked at each other. Both of us knew 
why this request was made. The entrenchment 
of the British at Ashley River and their erec- 
tion of batteries across Wappoo Creek had ren- 
dered the fortification untenable. A three-sided 
fort, with parapets only on the north and east 
and west, it left the south — the side on which 
the enemy had appeared — wholly unprotected. 
So the commander had promptly withdrawn, 
bringing away, however, his men, his guns, and 
his stores in safety. 

But for some reason, possibly his haste, he 
had left the fortress intact, and now the enemy 
were arranging to occupy it. Already a small 
detachment of soldiers had been placed within 
it, and cannon were on the way across the island 
to re-fortify it. Once furnished with an arma- 


302 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


ment, the red-coats would be able to drive our 
ships from their present station, and protect 
their own vessels whenever they attempted to 
enter the upper bay by the south channel. Its 
destruction meant a continuation of our control 
over the entrance to the inner harbor. 

It was a very ditferent undertaking from our 
previous one — a place easier to reach; a work 
harder to do; and one that would require a 
much larger force of men. 

Still, as I gazed into Lieutenant Haines’s 
eyes, I knew he was willing to undertake it, and 
I was as willing to accompany him as I had 
been on the night we destroyed the Beacon 
House Light. So we repeated together the 
words we had already used : 

‘‘We are ready.” 

“I will speak to Commodore Whipple about 
the matter, then, and you will receive your or- 
ders direct from him,” and he dismissed us. 

Within an hour, however, the official assign- 
ment reached us, and, since the undertaking 
brooked no delay, we set about our prepara- 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


303 


tions at once. When night came we were ready. 
At ten o’clock eight boats, carrying four score 
men, one-half of them armed with swords and 
guns, the others bearing spades and bars and 
mattocks, swung clear of the frigates, and 
pulled across the harbor. Landing a few rods 
above the fort, our working force was left on 
the shore, while the others advanced upon the 
unsuspecting garrison. 

We reached its rear without challenge, and 
with a rush entered. Out from the barracks 
came a dozen half-clad and unarmed men, fol- 
lowed in a few minutes by a dozen more who 
had delayed to dress and arm themselves. But 
at the sight of our overwhelming numbers they 
quickly surrendered. The surprise had been 
complete. 

It now fell to my lot to take a dozen men 
from our armed squad, and proceed a half mile 
up the island, and form a picket line against 
any possible surprise ; while Lieutenant Haines 
brought up our working gang and began the 
demolition. 


304 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


The parapets were thrown down, the stones 
tumbled into the sea, the timbers drawn over to 
the barracks for a general conflagration, the 
dirt levelled. It was a long task, and a hard 
one, and the morning hours were drawing near 
when the huge pile of combustibles was ready 
for the flames. Then my men and I were re- 
called ; the fire was kindled ; and we hastened to 
our boats. 

We were not fifty fathoms from the shore 
when a body of horsemen came tearing down to 
the burning ruins. Fearful, perhaps, that we 
might have placed cans of powder in the pile, 
they did not attempt to stay the flames. Instead 
they rode on down to the shore, where they 
fired their pistols and sent after us their shouts 
of derision. 

Bafiied in their attempt to make use of the 
fort, the British now began more vigorous ef- 
forts to hem us in. The land forces endeavored 
to cross the Ashley River to the Neck. 

This was no easy task, for General Lincoln 
had by no means been idle. From the Ashley 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


305 


to the Cooper River he had thrown up a line of 
redoubts, with a deep ditch in front ; and every 
vulnerable point on the shores and around the 
town was fortified with cannon and detach- 
ments of soldiers. He stubbornly contested, 
therefore, every advance of the enemy, and 
though they outnumbered his own troops nearly 
three to one, it took them a month to obtain a 
footing on the north bank of the river. But 
at last it was accomplished, and, to our chagrin, 
they completed a parallel line of batteries 
within eleven hundred yards of our own. 

Had our ships been free to aid our land 
forces, I then thought, and even now I believe 
the history of the siege would have been differ- 
ently written. But while Sir Henry Clinton 
was conducting his troops across the river, the 
British admiral moved up the bay with the de- 
sign of attacking us from the water side. 

A question arose on our part as to the best 
place to station our own ships for this attack. 
Some of our officers favored our changing to 
Five Fathom Hole, while others believed the 


306 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


better position was between the islands. The 
matter was settled by sending Captains Tucker 
and Rathbone to get the soundings from the bar 
to the hole. I was in charge of one of our boats, 
and helped to frame the report which the cap- 
tains handed to Commodore Whipple. It was 
substantially as follows: 

‘‘We find eleven feet of water in the channel 
^rom the bar to Five Fathom Hole. The Hole 
is three miles from the bar. Ships cannot 
anchor until they are at that distance from the 
bar. Off North Breaker Head, where the ves- 
sels can anchor, they will be one and a half 
miles from the shore. 

‘ ‘ It would be useless to place batteries there, 
for should the enemy make a retreat necessary, 
it would be impossible for us to cover that re- 
treat, or to take the men away. It is clear, 
therefore, that our ships can do the most effec- 
tual service for the defense and security of the 
town by acting in conjunction with Fort Moul- 
trie. 

‘ ‘ Our reasons are : that the channel is so nar- 
row between the fort and the middle ground 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


307 


that they (the ships) may be moved so as to 
rake the channel and j)revent the enemy’s 
troops from being landed to annoy the fort; 
and will also be in the best position to check the 
advance of the enemy’s fleet into the inner 
bay. ’ ’ 

This report prevailed, and our little fleet re- 
mained where it was — on line with Fort Moul- 
trie. This garrison was under the command of 
Colonel Pinckney, an experienced and intrepid 
officer, and every one of the soldiers with him 
was a picked man. 

Scarcely was the advance across the Ashley 
begun by the troops when the British ships be- 
gan their advance up the bay. Arranged in the 
form of an inverted V, the apex pointing up 
the harbor, they came on. The moment it ar- 
rived within gun range, the leading vessel 
opened up a brisk fire ; the other vessels in turn 
followed her example. The fort and our ships 
returned the fire, and the battle was on. 

For an hour it raged. But wind and tide, as 
well as the number and strength of the ships, 


308 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


was on the side of the enemy, and they at length 
broke through our line, and were enabled to 
attack ns from the rear. To save onr ships, 
therefore, we were compelled to withdraw to 
the month of the Cooper River, while the Eng- 
lish fleet anchored off the rnins of Fort John- 
son to repair their damages, which had been 
severe. 

The position they now occupied made it use- 
less for Colonel Pinckney to remain in Fort 
Moultrie, so, abandoning it under the cover of 
the night, he escaped with his men and his guns 
to the Neck. 

To prevent the fleet from coming up the 
Cooper River and enfilading our lines, on the 
next day we sank eleven vessels across the 
river’s mouth, and stationed the Ranger and 
two galleys north of the sunken craft. 

The other ships were taken farther up the 
river and dismantled, both men and guns being 
transferred to the shore to re-inforce the bat- 
teries. There was also a further addition to 
our little army. General Woodford arrived 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


309 


with seven hundred men, he and his brave fol- 
lowers having made a forced march of five hun- 
dred miles in twenty-eight days for our relief. 

But however bright the ray of hope was 
which was awakened by their coming, it shone 
only for ten days, for then the British were re- 
inforced by the arrival of two thousand fresh 
troops from New York. About the same time 
also they completed their second line of re- 
doubts within three hundred yards of ours; 
their fleet advanced within cannon shot of the 
town; and a heavy detachment of soldiers was 
thrown across the north end of the Neck, com- 
pletely hemming us in. It was now the twen- 
tieth of April — a day long to be remembered 
by us, for on it we received our first summons 
to surrender. To this demand the brave Lin- 
coln replied : 

^‘As long as my men have food to eat, and 
suJSicient strength to endure the ceaseless toil 
and vigilance required of them, I have no in- 
tention of surrendering.’^ 

Distress through the scarcity of food was 


310 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


not, however, long in coming. All supplies from 
the country were cut off; the amount of stores 
on hand was not large; and it was not long be- 
fore all classes had to be put on an allowance, 
six ounces of pork and a little rice being each 
one’s portion. 

On May first famine stared us in the face; 
only rations enough for one more week re- 
mained. Our hospitals were overflowing with 
the wounded; our death roll — due to our con- 
stant skirmishing — had become frightfully 
large ; our men were becoming emaciated from 
their scanty supply of food, and worn with 
their unremitting toil and vigilance. Still, to a 
second demand from the British general for 
surrender. General Lincoln, after consulting 
with his officers, returned a flat refusal. 

Ten more days went by. The British troops 
were now within twenty-five yards of our line. 
For several days hot shot from the ships in the 
harbor and the batteries on shore had been 
thrown into the town, setting houses on fire in 
several quarters. Our entrenchments were shat- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


311 


tered; our garrisons were weakened by their 
losses ; our food was gone ; our men had hardly 
strength enough to make a firm stand against 
a general assault, yet so intrepid was our 
leader he decided to undertake one. 

The last battle, the fiercest and most formid- 
able during the invasion, followed. Pouring out 
from our redoubts at an unsuspected moment, we 
swept down and upon the first line of British 
batteries, striving to dislodge the red-coats and 
drive them back to the second line of entrench- 
ments. It is not within my power to describe 
the onslaught, for before I reached the bat- 
teries a ball from a musket struck me in the 
breast, and I went down, to be trampled under 
the feet of my comrades as they rushed on in 
their vain undertaking. For though the con- 
test raged long and fiercely, with terrible losses 
on both sides, superior numbers finally told and 
we were driven back to our redoubts, beaten, 
but not conquered. 

As night came on our commander called his 
officers together again for consultation. The 


312 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


general feeling was that it would be useless, 
yes, an unwise sacrifice of precious lives, to fight 
longer, and so on the following day General 
Lincoln secured terms of honorable surrender. 


CHAPTER XXI 

^^THE CKUISE OF THE NINE^^ 

I did not lie long there on the battlefield after 
the straggle was over. Some of my comrades 
had seen me when I fell, and as soon as an 
armistice for the hhrial of the dead and the 
removal of the wounded could be arranged, 
they came to my help. I was carried to a large 
storehouse near the Cooper River which had 
been turned into a temporary hospital, and 
there Dr. Burns of our own frigate gave me 
his special care. My wound, though serious, 
did not reach the danger point, and within three 
weeks I was able to receive visitors. Captain 


313 


314 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Tucker was the first, and when left alone for 
a few minutes, he bent over my cot, and, lower- 
ing his voice, said : 

^‘We have not been able to keep your where- 
abouts from the British authorities, my lad. ’ ’ 

‘ ^ I am not surprised at that, ’ ’ I replied slow- 
ly, and wondering what else he would tell me. 

‘‘They made a search for you at once,’’ he 
continued, “and happened to question one of 
our men who was too dull to realize that the 
inquiry meant any special danger to you, and 
so he told them you were wounded in the last 
battle, and had been taken to one of the hos- 
pitals. It was then easy for them to find you, 
and they have put the building here under 
double guards until you recover, when they are 
going to send you to New York.” 

I merely nodded an assent, for the revelation, 
while not unexpected, nevertheless took all the 
talk out of me for the moment. 

“I have tried my best to arrange an exchange 
for you, but they will not listen to it. So there 
is but one thing for us to do — it is to get you 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


315 


out of here in some way before they know you 
are able to he moved.” 

‘‘Can it be done?” I asked eagerly. 

“Dr. Bums, Lieutenant Haines, and I have 
been in consultation several times,” he ex- 
plained, “but we have not yet hit upon a way 
that seems practicable. The Doctor, however, 
is making them believe you are much worse 
off than you really are, and if he can keep them 
in ignorance of your actual condition until you 
are able to walk, we still hope to do it. Be of 
good courage, therefore, and get strong as fast 
as possible. You have escaped them every time 
so far, and I believe you will now,” and he left 
me. 

I tried to be of good heart for I knew my 
three friends were all ingenious and resource- 
ful and would find a way of escape for me were 
it possible. But, after all, it was not they, but 
the old sailor, Richard Jones — whom I had 
rescued from the sea and who had declared he 
would make good all I had done for him — who 
devised not only a way for my escape, but also 


316 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


for putting an end to all further search on the 
part of the British authorities for me. It came 
about in this way: 

He saw me fall on the day of the battle, and 
turned at once to see if he could do anything for 
me, but before he reached my side was himself 
smitten by a bullet which laid him low. Taken 
to the same hospital as myself, and put on a 
cot in the same ward, almost his first inquiry 
when he came to consciousness was about me. 
Prom day to day as he grew weaker he rejoiced 
to know that I was growing stronger. Then 
there came a time when Dr. Burns had to tell 
him that he could live but a few hours. 

^HVe ben waitin’ for that word. Doctor,” he 
replied. ^‘Do ye think I can hold out till 
night r ’ 

^^Yes,” the surgeon answered, “and perhaps 
until morning.” 

“Then I’ve a favor to ax of ye,” the sailor 
continued. 

“What is it, my good fellow?” Doctor Burns 
inquired kindly. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


317 


^^That ye put me in Master Dunn’s bed, an’ 
let me die for him, while he lives as Dick 
Jones,” he explained. ''Then the red-coats 
won ’t get him. ’ ’ 

Like a flash the physician recognized the pos- 
sibility of the plan. Owing to the scarcity of 
surgeons, since the surrender he had been left 
in sole charge of that ward. On their tour of in- 
spection the British had numbered each patient, 
putting his name against the number. If he 
died, his number was reported, and an order 
came for his burial. If he recovered, his num- 
ber was also reported, and an order came for 
his discharge, and his return to the barracks 
of his company. 

Jones was number seventy-two in that ward, 
while I was number fifty-seven. The change 
could be made, and on the death of the old sailor 
the report that patient number fifty-seven had 
died could be sent to the British officer acting as 
superintendent of that building. Doubtless he 
would simply issue an order for the burial 
without visiting the ward as he had a score of 


318 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


times before, and in his records would enter 
the fact that number fifty-seven, or Midship- 
man Arthur Dunn, had died and was buried; 
while upon my discharge - the same records 
would show that number seventy-two, or Rich- 
ard Jones, a sailor, had recovered. 

‘ ^ It shall be done, Richard, ’ ’ he promised in a 
low tone, ‘‘and God bless you for thinking of 
it.’^ 

That night, with the help of two Continental 
soldiers who were acting as nurses, the surgeon 
had the change made without explaining to his 
assistants why it was done. To me, however, 
he made known the whole scheme, and cautioned 
me that I was to remember I was Richard 
Jones until my exchange was effected. 

The next morning the old sailor had joined 
the unseen majority, and before night was 
buried under my number. We never knew what 
the effect of the report was at the British head-^ 
quarters. Probably they accepted it as a fact, 
as no further inquiry was made concerning me 
so far as we ever knew. Three weeks later, I 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


319 


left the hospital as niimber seventy-two, or 
Richard Jones, to the British authorities — 
another fact they never questioned. 

Instead of joining my comrades in the bar- 
racks set apart for their use, however, I went 
to a boarding-place which my friends had se- 
cured for me, and where I was known by my 
assumed name. 

But I was there only three days, for on June 
26th Captain Tucker and his crew were ex- 
changed for Captain William Wardlow and 
crew, who had been captured by the Boston on 
the Thorn twelve months before. As Richard 
Jones, sailor, I passed unrecognized before the 
English officer in charge of the exchange; and 
on the following day the Captain and I started 
by the overland route for our home in Marble- 
head. 

We were there only a month, however. Then 
Captain Tucker received notice that he was to 
take command of the ship Thorn , at that time 
in Boston harbor. With that notice came my 
own commission as a second lieutenant, and an 


320 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


assignment to the same vessel. We left at once 
for Boston, and boarded the frigate to find to 
our delight that she had been put in thorough 
repair, furnished with a crew of one hundred 
and twenty-five men and her armament in- 
creased to twenty- two guns. 

We sailed the following day, making several 
cruises during the next three months, running 
sometimes as far north as Halifax, and again 
south as far as Jamaica. The wonderful suc- 
cess of Captain Tucker still attended him, and 
we captured many prizes, some of which were 
of great value. 

Then came a cruise so remarkable that it has 
been exceeded by no naval commander; so re- 
markable that I hesitate to tell of it here lest 
the readers may think I exaggerate. Yet it is 
but a faithful recital of facts. 

We left port on a bright November morn- 
ing, and before night sighted a small brig, com- 
ing up from the south. We gave chase and 
overhauled her without difficulty. At our first 
shot she hove to, and I went off to her. She 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


321 


proved to be the Lord Hyde from the West 
Indies and bonnd for Halifax with a cargo of 
sugar valued at three thousand pounds. A mid- 
shipman was put in command of her, and she 
was sent in to Boston. 

We changed our course after parting with 
the prize and ran to the eastward. The follow- 
ing morning we discovered a large ship a few 
miles away, and as we approached her we found 
she carried sixteen guns. This was suggestive 
of a valuable cargo, and as she showed a dis- 
position to fight, we cleared our decks and pre- 
pared for action. A broadside poured into her, 
however, brought her to terms, and upon board- 
ing her we found she was the Alliance, from 
Liverpool to Charleston, with a cargo of wine, 
brandy, and dry goods inventoried at forty 
thousand pounds. 

The next day was a Sabbath, and proved to 
be on our part a day of rest. But the following 
day made up for it, as it brought us two prizes. 
The first was a letter of marque brig of four- 
teen guns, bound from Antigua to Quebec laden 


322 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


with rum and molasses, and valued at seven 
thousand pounds. The second was a sloop from 
Saint Eustatia to Halifax with three hundred 
hogsheads of sugar worth six thousand pounds. 

We cruised all day Tuesday to the west and 
south, and it was nearly night before we sighted 
any sail. There was a bright moon, however, 
and we could follow her almost as well as in the 
day time. Before midnight we had captured 
her. She proved to be the brig Venture, from 
Madeira to New York with one hundred and 
fifty pipes of Madeira wine and a miscellaneous 
cargo, valued at ten thousand pounds. 

Our next prize cost us a struggle, and the loss 
of several men. We had run to the northward 
all the forenoon, when our lookout at the mast- 
head called out that there was a large armed 
ship on our weather bow. We changed our 
course to overhaul her, and soon found she was 
nearly our match as a sailer. For four hours 
we strove to come up with her, and I do not 
know as we should have done so then had not 
the stiff breeze carried away her foretopmast. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


323 


Finding she could not escape us, she now pre- 
pared for a fight, and as she carried twenty 
guns and a large crew, she was no mean an- 
tagonist. Captain Tucker attempted several 
times to grapple with her, desiring to throw a 
boarding party on her deck, but she avoided 
him every time, and poured a broadside into us. 
We returned the fire, and both vessels had re- 
ceived considerable damage when a mistake by 
the Englishman’s pilot caused her to foul with 
us. Here was the opportunity for which we 
had been looking, and in another minute our 
boarders poured over her rail and down her 
deck. 

The British commander was plucky, and not 
until a score of his men were killed and he him- 
self was wounded, did he strike his flag. We 
then found the vessel was the Dean Swift, from 
London to New York, with a cargo of dry 
goods which invoiced thirty thousand pounds, 
besides four thousand barrels of provisions, 
and fifty puncheons of rum. 

Thursday we had worked off to the south- 


324 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


ward and about noon ran in with the brigantine 
Boydj from Jamaica for Quebec, and laden with 
sugar, coffee, and tobacco, and valued at fifteen 
thousand pounds. 

Early Friday morning we found a brig not 
a mile from us. Like ourselves she was be- 
calmed, but our boats went off to her and cap- 
tured her without difficulty. She proved to be 
the brig Patsey, bound from Liverpool to the 
West Indies with an assorted cargo worth eight 
thousand pounds. 

For Saturday there was reserved for us the 
crowning prize of the week. We had again 
taken a course to the north, and were off Massa- 
chusetts bay when we sighted her. Our lookout 
reported her as a large ship, heavily laden, and 
carrying eighteen guns. We were not slow in 
giving chase, nor were we slow in coming up 
with her. To our shot across her bow she re- 
plied defiantly with her stern gun. So our men 
were drummed to quarters, our guns were shot- 
ted, and our boarders were at their station 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


325 


amidships. We were ready for what we ex- 
pected to be a gallant fight. 

But the ship was so deep in the water she was 
unwieldy, while our own frigate responded to 
her helm like a thing of life, and before she 
could avoid us we had grappled with her and 
put thirty men on board. Finding he could not 
shake us off, nor withstand the impetus of our 
boarding party, her commander speedily sur- 
rendered. She was the ship Dolphin, from Lon- 
don with supplies of all kinds for the British 
troops — the invoice showing a value of more 
than seventy-five thousand pounds sterling. 

We had been out nine days and taken nine 
prizes, with a total value of not less than two 
hundred thousand pounds. But our crew had 
now become so depleted by the constant drain 
upon it, we were no longer in a condition to con- 
tinue our voyage. So we sailed for Boston 
where we arrived safely with the Dolphin, and 
where we found the other eight prizes had pre- 
ceded us. Quite a sensation was created by our 


326 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


extraordinary luck, and not only among our 
own men, but in shipping circles to this day 
they speak of it as ‘Hhe cruise of the nine.’’ 


CHAPTER XXII 

CAPTUKED BY THE HIND 

There is an ebb in the current of fortune as 
well as in the deep. The neap tides often fol- 
low the highest flood of prosperity. We set out 
on another cruise, our tenth, and as I now at- 
tempt to write of it, it brings to mind the old 
Roman adage: ‘‘The tenth wave surged.’’ 

Our misfortunes began with a storm so se- 
vere and prolonged I even now recall our 
experiences with dread. All day the clouds had 
been gathering; the wind blew from the north- 
east, and there was that peculiar sough in it, 
which through a long life at sea I have come to 
recognize as the indication of an unusual temp- 
est. 


327 


328 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Towards sundown the temperature suddenly 
grew colder, and a fine sleet began to fall. Soon 
deck and spars and sails were covered with an 
icy garment which made it difficult to keep one ’s 
feet and to handle the shrouds and guys. Be- 
fore midnight the wind had increased to such 
violence the stiffened canvas could not stand 
before it, and cracked and split and shivered 
to pieces like sheets of thin glass. We were 
soon obliged to turn and run before the gale 
under bare poles, while the great waves fol- 
lowed us like monsters seeking to devour us. 

For four days there was no let-up to the 
storm, and our ship became so top-heavy with 
its cargo of ice and snow we staggered along 
like a drunken man. Then the wind suddenly 
changed to the south-east, the temperature 
moderated, the snow and sleet turned to rain, 
and for twenty-four hours we were driven to 
the north-west at a more furious pace than that 
with which we had taken our southing. Spite- 
ful as the tempest was, however, it was not so 
disagreeable as the first. We were saved the 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


329 


biting cold, and the ropes and sails could be 
worked more readily and to better advantage. 

We were just beginning to congratulate our- 
selves that the force of the gale was spent when 
the wind whipped again into the north-east, and 
the experiences of the first four days were re- 
peated and prolonged to nearly a week. In 
fact, we escaped the clutches of the norther 
only by being driven so far south the icy hand 
that grasped us had to yield before the warm 
breezes of the semi-tropics. 

It took us another week to repair the dam- 
ages we had suffered, to get out and bend to 
their places our spare sails, and to regain the 
course we were on when the storm first struck 
us. 

Then followed a month during which we did 
not sight a vessel ; it seemed as though the gale 
had swept clean the surface of the ocean, and 
left us the sole survivor of its fury. 

The month of failure to discover a sail was 
succeeded by two weeks during which every 
ship we sighted ran away from us, and when 


330 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


they came to an end we had been eight weeks 
at sea without so much as the ghost of a prize 
to cheer our hearts. 

We now were off the mouth of the St. Law- 
rence, and the orders had been given us to take 
a homeward course, when our lookout called 
out: 

‘‘Ship ahoy! Two points off our weather 
bow. She’s a large ship, and carries the Eng- 
lish colors.” 

Hoping at last we had found a prize, so that 
we need not return to port empty handed, we 
changed our helm, and ran down towards her. 

We had not gone a mile before the man at the 
masthead again called out : 

“She’s a British frigate, a big one, sir, and 
she has headed down this way. ’ ’ 

Lieutenant Barrows, our executive officer, 
sprang into the shrouds and gazed at the ship 
through his glass for some minutes. Then he 
jumped down, saying to me : 

“It is the Hind, Sir William Young com- 
mander, and carrying fifty-four gims. I’ve 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


331 


seen her too many times to be mistaken. Will 
you notify the Captain, Lieutenant Dunn?’^ 
Somewhat startled by his announcement, for 
I knew if he was right the Thorn was no match 
for so formidable an antagonist, I hurried 
away to inform Captain Tucker. 

He came to the deck and took a good look at 
the approaching frigate, and then he said : 

presume you are correct in your surmise 
about yonder vessel. Lieutenant Barrows. She 
certainly carries more than double our number 
of guns, and probably has a crew triple our 
own. So I have got to do what I never did 
before, and what I do now with very bad grace, 
I assure you — I must run away from a British 
ship. We are no match for her.’^ 

He gave the order to about ship and to spread 
every stitch of canvas we could carry to the stiff 
breeze then blowing from the northwest. In 
a few minutes the Hind was under a similar 
cloud of canvas, and the race which meant es- 
cape or capture for us was begun. 

We were soon making ten knots, and for 


332 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


three hours the British frigate did no better. 
The distance between the ships certainly had 
not lessened, and we began to hope that we 
might shake off our pursuer. But the ill-luck 
which so far had attended us during that voy- 
age continued to manifest itself. All at once, 
and without the slightest warning our main- 
topmast snapped in two and came tumbling 
down to the deck. It struck our first officer and 
two seamen, knocking the former overboard, 
and injuring the latter so that they had to be 
taken down below and put under the surgeon’s 
care. We hove to as soon as we could, and put 
over a boat for the unfortunate officer. He was 
a good swimmer and managed to keep afloat 
until we came up with him ; but a half-hour had 
elapsed before we were back on board the ship, 
and in that half-hour the Hind had so gained 
upon us there were but two things we could do, 
and we must take our choice between them: to 
fight or to surrender. 

We chose the former, large as our foe fras; 
so the drum beat our men to quarters ; our guns 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


333 


were shotted; and, with about as much hope 
of victory as a bantam might have in a contest 
with a game-cock, we turned to meet the enemy. 

She was evidently surprised at our action, 
and was, therefore, not ready for the fight quite 
so soon as ourselves. That gave us a slight ad- 
vantage, and we poured a broadside into her 
before she fired a gun. 

But she soon made up for her delay, and for 
some minutes the unequal contest waged. Great 
gaps were torn in our sides; our decks were 
swept; our sails were riddled; a score or more 
of our men were killed or wounded. 

But the Hind had also suffered. Our guns 
had been aimed largely at her rigging, for it 
was the hope of Captain Tucker to so disable 
her that she would be unable to follow him, and 
then he would continue his flight. The time for 
that movement now seemed to be ripe, for her 
foremast had been shot away, and the spars of 
her mizzen and mainmasts sadly injured. So 
he gave the command to sheer otf and sail away. 

We were coming about when a well directed 


334 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


shot from the Britisher, who had divined our 
purpose, struck our rudder, breaking it into 
splinters and causing our frigate to spin arouhd 
like a top. We were helpless, and in another in- 
stant the Hind had graj^pled with us, and 
poured a large boarding party down upon our 
deck. 

There was a short hand-to-hand fight, and 
then, overpowered by numbers. Captain Tucker 
did the only thing he could do to save the rem- 
nant of his men — ^he surrendered. 

Only thirty-eight of our crew were able to line 
up on the deck of the Hind and answer to our 
names as they were called from the ship’s 
roster; forty-five more of our men were alive 
but so severely wounded they were under the 
surgeon’s care, while forty-two had been slain. 

The Englishmen had not passed through the 
struggle unscathed, however. More than one 
hundred of them had been killed or wounded, 
and it was clear from the deference shown us 
by Captain Young that the battle we had been 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


335 


able to put up with our small numbers had won 
his respect. 

It seems to me now as I recall the fight that 
it was a singular circumstance that both Cap- 
tain Tucker and myself should have come out 
of it unharmed. I know he was ever at the 
front of his men, and I am not conscious that I 
in any way attempted to shield myself, yet it 
remains a fact, unaccountable though it may 
be except on the belief that an over-ruling Prov- 
idence protected us, we had not received the 
slightest injury. 

Our brother officers had not fared so well. 
Lieutenant Barrows, saved only a half-hour 
before from a watery grave, was one of the 
first among us to be slain. Our third officer, and 
two of our five midshipmen had been wounded, 
and one of our midshipmen killed. There had 
been even greater havoc among our warrant 
officers, as all but four had given up their lives 
in defense of the flag they loved so well, and the 
four who survived were among the wounded. 

Proud that his men had fought so well, yet 


336 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


grieved over the terrible loss among them, Cap- 
tain Tucker asked, after our names had been 
taken, that we might be permitted to care for 
the injured — a request firmly though cour- 
teously refused. 

‘Ht would he a departure from our usual 
custom,’^ Sir William said, ‘^but I promise you 
that they shall have the best care we can give 
them, the care that such brave men deserve.’’ 

For ourselves, men and officers alike, we were 
sent to the brig, where we were closely guarded 
until the Hind could reach port in the Isle of 
St. Jean, now Prince Edward Island. 

As I lay there in the darkness of the hold, 
I wondered over the fact that when I had re- 
sponded to the name of Lieutenant Arthur 
Dunn, the officer calling the roll had manifested 
no surprise or 'seemed to attach no special sig- 
nificance to it. It was so different from the 
treatment I had been accustomed to receive 
when the name was given to the British officials, 
I could not help calling the attention of the Cap- 
tain to the circumstance. 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


337 


‘Ht may be they think yon are some other 
Dunn/^ he snggested. ‘‘It is not an uncommon 
name, and the higher rank here, and reported 
death at Charleston may help to conceal your 
identity.’’ 

“They may forget, too, that I am five years 
older now than when I first left the Saint 
George/' I added, “and so are looking for a 
younger person. ’ ’ 

“Possibly,” he acknowledged, “though I 
think the official record of your death does more 
to prevent the recognition than all else. But 
whatever the reason for this failure to identify 
in the lieutenant the runaway midshipman, let 
us be thankful for it. It will doubtless save us 
many anxious moments in the days that are to 
come.” 

We were forty-eight hours in the Hind, and 
then she arrived at Charlottetown, where we 
were transferred to the garrison and put under 
the care of the commandant. General William 
Patterson, who was also the governor of the 
colony. 


338 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Within the walls of the fort there was a huge 
log building used as a prison, and in this we 
were confined. For some reason never known 
to us, our officers were now separated from our 
crew, the latter being put in the large room with 
the other prisoners, while we were given a small 
room directly back of the office of the prison 
overseer. It may be the authorities thought we 
would be safer where the superintendent could 
keep his eye on us. 

Our confinement was irksome, but nothing 
like what I had experienced in the Halifax 
prison a few years before. We had a clean 
room, there was plenty of fresh air, good water, 
and wholesome, though coarse food, and there 
was no disease. As the hot months came on, 
however, the tediousness of our confinement 
grew upon us. We became restless, and one 
day the Captain put into words what for some 
time had been in the thoughts of us all : 

‘‘We cant stand this much longer, lads. We 
must find a way to get out of here, and back to 
our homes. If we are ever to do it, this is the 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


339 


time. When the cold weather comes on every- 
thing will be against the attempt. ’ ’ 

From that day we talked of nothing else, 
planned for nothing else. 

It was the Captain who finally hit npon a 
scheme which we hoped would succeed. Our 
room was in the south-west corner of the prison, 
the west side of the apartment forming a part 
of the rear of the building. This we knew could 
not be far from the west wall of the fort, but as 
there was no window on that side we could not 
tell exactly how far. 

With a knife allowed us for cutting our food 
the Captain one day made a small aperture be- 
tween the logs which had been hewed so 
smoothly as to fit tightly together. Placing his 
eye to this, he made his own estimation of the 
distance to the wall, and then had each of us in 
turn make his estimate. Comparing notes, we 
found we did not differ two feet in our opin- 
ions of the distance — ten feet being the longest 
amount guessed by any of us. 

‘‘Very well,’’ commented our leader, “we will 


340 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


now allow five feet for the thickness of the wall, 
an ample allowance. That will make fifteen feet 
from here to the outside — not a long distance, 
surely, and one the six of us here ought to be 
able to tunnel in two or three weeks. 

“But to dig a tunnel we must get under the 
floor, I objected. “How are we to do that?” 

Our berths were arranged in a double tier on 
the north side of the room, the Captain occupy- 
ing one of the lower ones and I the other. In 
answer to my question he led us over there, and, 
removing the blanket from his own berth, 
showed us how one of the bottom boards had 
cracked in two under his weight. 

“It broke just before I got up this morning,” 
he explained, “and when I arose I took a look 
at it to see how serious the damage was. Then 
I discovered this, — ” as he spoke he bent the 
two ends of the board downwards until they 
had parted several inches at the center, and we 
all saw what he meant. The floor of the room 
did not extend under the tier of berths, and we 
were looking down upon the bare ground. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


341 


Of course, the broken board did not give us 
an aperture wide enough even for the smallest 
of us to crawl through, but with the knife that 
had served to make the small opening between 
the logs we at length succeeded in cutting out 
the entire bottom of the captain’s berth, and 
then any of us could crawl beneath the building 
at his will. 

Rude paddles were made from the pieces of 
boards we had removed, and that night the 
tunnel was begun. I will not attempt to describe 
the feverish anxiety with which we slowly dug 
our way down the passage that we believed 
would finally give us the one thing we desired 
above all others — our liberty. 

We worked only through the night hours, 
carefully covering all traces of our work during 
the day. First we sank a pit about four feet 
deep, and large enough for us to turn around in. 
The dirt from this we hoisted in a blanket and 
emptied it in the open space under the floor of 
the building. 

Then the real tunnel began. We made it big 


342 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


enough for the largest man among us to crawl 
in and out easily. The dirt from this was 
pushed back to the pit, from which it was re- 
moved to the open space under the floor. 

The work went slowly. We gained only 
about twelve inches each night, and therefore 
over two weeks elapsed before we had gone the 
fifteen feet which we had estimated would carry 
us beyond the outer wall of the fort. All was 
now ready for our last task, the making of the 
opening from the tunnel into the open air. We 
reserved this for the last night — the night we 
hoped to escape, and wiaited therefore for one 
that would be favorable in every respect for the 
enterprise. It came on the last night of July, at 
the end of the seventeenth day since we had 
begun the digging, a rainy, drizzly evening 
when a dark pall hung over the fort and all its 
surroundings. 

Captain Tucker had asked that his own hands 
might do the last work, and about nine o’clock 
he entered the tunnel for that purpose. Mid- 
shipman Lawrence attended him to draw back 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


343 


the blanket as he filled it with dirt. The rest of 
us gathered about the inner opening, waiting 
for the word that should send us down the pas- 
sage one by one — down the passage to the outer 
world from which we had been shut off for 
weeks. 

Three times Master Lawrence drew back the 
filled blanket for us to empty. The third time 
he said: 

‘‘The Captain had one hand up through the 
surface when I started back here. He says we 
are beyond the fort wall, and by the time we can 
come out there one after the other, he will have 
the opening large enough for us to pass through. 
So come on. ^ ’ 

The order of our going had been pre-ar- 
ranged. I was to be the last. One by one I saw 
my comrades go down the tunnel, and then I 
entered. As rapidly as I could I crept along, 
touching now and then the heels of the man in 
front of me. Then he rose to his feet, and I 
knew we had reached the outlet. I could even 
feel the fresh air as it blew down upon me. How 


344 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


good it felt ! One quick spring and I would be 
free ! 

An exclamation from the man in front of me 
as he went out of the opening — an exclamation 
quickly smothered as it seemed to me — reached 
my ear. I wondered what it could mean, but 
there was no time now for investigation, nor 
even for hesitation. So up I arose, placed my 
hands on the firm ground, and leaped out of the 
hole into the arms of two British soldiers who 
were waiting to capture me. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE ESCAPE 

I struggled with my captors for a while, not 
so much because I expected to escape from 
them, but in hopes that I would thereby aid my 
companions in their flight. For I could neither 
see nor hear anything of them, and believed I 
was the only one who had been seized by the 
British guards. At length I ceased my efforts, 
and, yielding to the inevitable, let them lead me 
away. They conducted me around the prison 
to its front entrance and took me into the super- 
intendent’s office, where to my amazement I 
beheld all my comrades, each like myself in the 
grasp of two soldiers. 


345 


346 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


There was a broad grin on the face of the 
prison overseer as he gazed at ns, and then ad- 
dressing himself to Captain Tucker, he said : 

‘Ht was a neat little game. Captain, I admit 
that, and with some it might have succeeded, 
but not with me. Why, sir, let me show you 
that I have known of your scheme from the be- 
ginning. See here — ’’ and turning to the parti- 
tion back of his chair, he pushed aside an old 
garment that was hanging there, disclosing a 
small aperture, about the size of a walnut on 
that side of the wall, but tapering down to a 
small point on the side of our room. ‘ ‘ With the 
coat hanging there to shut out the light, he 
continued, ‘‘you did not notice the tiny opening, 
and did not suspect that many times each day I 
either had my eye upon you, or my ear was 
where I could hear all you were saying, ’ ’ and he 
glanced at his prisoner with a complacent air 
which said: “I was more than a match for 
you. ’ ’ 

Then he went on : 

“Oh! I knew you were a shrewd fellow, Cap- 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


347 


tain Tucker^ and had outwitted more than one 
of our officers before now, but I was deter- 
mined you should not outwit me. So I put you 
and your subalterns in there where I could lit- 
erally keep you under my eye. I saw you the 
night you cut out the boards of your berth, and 
immediately suspected your plan, but purposely 
allowed you to go on to the end. I was outside 
the prison watching when your hand first broke 
through the surface. Then I called my men, for 
I had arranged a little plan, too, and captured 
each one of you as you came out of the tunnel, 
and marched you in here. I assure you the joke 
is on you,^’ and he threw back his head and 
laughed immoderately. 

It was no laughing matter for us, however, 
and we were a crest-fallen group as we stood 
there looking first at our captors and then at 
each other, and realizing that our weeks of hard 
toil had availed us nothing. 

But the worst was yet to come. 

^^Do you know what I am going to do with 
jouV’ the' jailer asked when his laughter was 


348 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


over. course you don’t, so I will tell you. 
I am going to put you right back into that room 
tonight, and leave the passage open, and you 
are at liberty to go out if you wish. Only re- 
member twelve good men are to be stationed 
outside with orders to pick you off as you come 
out of your hole like so many woodchucks, ’ ’ and 
again he laughed as though he had perpetrated 
another good joke. 

Nor was he yet done. 

^‘Tomorrow,” he added, shall have you 
fill up the hole you have taken such pains to dig. 
It will be quite a job to put all that dirt back, 
but since you thrived while digging it out, you 
doubtless will enjoy putting it back. The addi- 
tional exercise will be good for you,” and for 
the third time he laughed heartily. 

This is where the worst came in. He kept his 
word to the letter. Back into the room we were 
marched and left to ourselves. There the open- 
ing stared silently at us. We knew it led out 
into the open air, but not one of us cared to 
make use of it; and the next morning under a 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


349 


guard of soldiers we were forced to fill up tlie 
tunnel we had been so long in digging. 

The day after this enforced task was com- 
joleted the overseer came to our room. He 
looked us over quizzically, and then remarked : 

‘‘You look tired, gentlemen, and hardly as 
though you were in a good condition for a long 
journey, and yet I am compelled to ask you to 
take one. The governor seems to think you are 
going to be more of a burden here than he cares 
to have on his hands, so he has decided to send 
you down to Halifax. At sunrise tomorrow you 
will start, and I wish you a pleasant journey, a 
safe arrival, and a long stay in the stoutest jail 
we have in all the colonies, ’ ’ and with mock po- 
liteness he bowed himself out of our presence. 

The sun was just peeping above the horizon 
the next morning when we were taken down to 
the river and put on board an open boat, al- 
ready manned with an officer and ten men. The 
jailer himself had accompanied us, and his di- 
rections to the lieutenant in whose care he 
placed us were brief but to the point : 


350 


IN SHIP AND PKISON 


‘^Here are the prisoners, sir; and the gov- 
ernor says you are to deliver them alive or dead 
to the governor at Halifax, and take a receipt 
for them. It matters little the condition they 
are in — the point is to deliver them, so you will 
know what to do if they attempt to make you 
any trouble,^’ and the grin we had so often seen 
was again upon his face. 

Then the ropes were cast off, the sail was 
hoisted, and the voyage begun — a voyage des- 
tined to have an outcome very different from 
what any one in the boat, or even the watching 
official on the shore, expected. 

The wind was from the north, and we soon 
ran out of Hillsborough bay into Northumber- 
land Strait, which we crossed to Cape St. 
George, where we went on shore for dinner. 

The officer in charge of us did not mean to 
give us any opportunity either to run away from 
him or to overpower himself and men, for the 
moment the boat touched the shore he marched 
us up to a large tree not far from the beach. 
There he made us sit dovm, and placed six men 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


351 


with loaded guns around us with orders to shoot 
us down if we even attempted to rise, a thing we 
should have been glad to do as the long hours in 
the boat had cramped our limbs and rendered 
them stiff and uncomfortable. 

Under his direction, the other four men built a 
fire, cooked the dinner, and with himself par- 
took of it. The four fed soldiers then changed 
places with four of our guards, who had their 
rations. The remaining two were then relieved 
for their repast. When they were done a small 
amount of food was brought to us, but there 
was no time during our halt when we were not 
under the guard of at least six men, who had 
their muskets ready for instant use. 

During the afternoon we rounded the Cape, 
and going down St. George’s Bay, passed 
through the gut of Canso to Chedahucto Bay, 
where we ran in to the Isle of Madame for the 
night. Within the walls of the garrison and 
under a strong guard furnished by the com- 
mander, we were kept securely until the morn- 
ing, when our journey was resumed. 


352 


IN SHIP AND PEISON 


So far there had been no opportunity for us to 
have a single word of private conversation with 
one another, and if the same vigilance was main- 
tained by our guards, we certainly should not 
have one. No plan for any concerted action to- 
wards our freedom could therefore be arranged 
by us. Yet we all knew by the looks the Captain 
occasionally gave us that he was watching for 
the moment when we might make such an etfort 
with some hope of success, and we were all on 
the alert to assist him when such a move was 
made. 

During the night the wind had whipped 
around, and now blew mildly from the south. It 
took us some time, therefore, to beat out around 
Cape Canso to the ocean, and when there what 
breeze there was left us. For a long time we 
lay there, gently tossing on the ground swell 
with the hot sun beating down upon our heads. 
The natural effect was for us to grow drowsy, 
and after a while even the men holding the 
guns were nodding sleepily. 

When the lieutenant joined us in the morn- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


353 


ing he had the appearance of a man who had 
been np a good part of the night at his cups, 
and it now began to tell upon him. For a while 
he struggled to keep awake, and then, handing 
over the tiller to one of his men whom he 
sternly cautioned to keep a sharp lookout, he 
put himself in as comfortable a position as pos- 
sible, with his head on the gunwale for a nap. 

The heat had a similar effect on us Yankees, 
but we had an inducement to keep awake the 
red-coats did not have. By a glance at us Cap- 
tain Tucker gave us to understand that the fa- 
vorable rhoment for our action was close at hand, 
and with the prospect of our liberty before us 
we had no difficulty in keeping our eyes open. 

Soon after the English officer dropped asleep, 
Captain Tucker changed his own position in the 
boat to one near the sleeping man. Here he 
assumed an easy posture as though he too would 
take a nap, yet we knew he was awake and was 
preparing to act. 

That move came, however, sooner than we 
looked for it and in a way we had not expected. 


354 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


Catching the lieutenant suddenly by the feet, he 
tumbled him overboard, and so adroitly was it 
done that to all of his nodding men it had the 
appearance of an accidental fall into the sea. 

Captain Tucker’s next move also seemed to 
confirm this view. Springing to his feet as 
though aroused by the splash, he called out ex- 
citedly : 

‘‘Quick, men! Put out your sweeps! You 
must save him ! I ’ll steer ! ” 

He took the tiller from the bewildered soldier, 
and again cried out for the men to get out their 
oars. 

In the excitement that followed — an excite- 
ment increased by the unfortunate officer ’s calls 
for help, for his sword and pistols were weigh- 
ing him down — the red-coats dropped their 
guns and put out the oars. They were awk- 
ward about it, however, and the Captain so 
managed the tiller that we were a few minutes 
in coming up with the struggling man. Those 
few minutes were enough for us, his comrades, 
to seize the discarded weapons. Dropping over- 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


355 


board all but five, we so placed ourselves that, 
when the British officer was drawn into the boat 
again, we were in command of it. 

Under the stern orders of Captain Tucker, en- 
forced by our loaded muskets, the discomfited 
soldiers pulled to the shore where they were 
disembarked. 

^Ht cannot be far across the point to Canso, 
where you will find friends,” the Captain an- 
nounced when they were on the beach. ‘‘Your 
boat and your provisions we shall need. Good- 
by,” and with a bow as polite as that the British 
jailer had given us a day or two before, he 
waved his hand for us to pull the craft out to 
sea. 

Early in the afternoon the breeze sprang up 
again, and we headed the sloop down the coast, 
homeward bound, for after some discussion we 
decided to run the risk of a voyage in the open 
boat to Boston. 

In the month of August the sea is usually light 
and the weather serene from Nova Scotia to 
Massachusetts Bay. We found it so now, and 


356 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 


on the seventeenth arrived in port without mis- 
hap. 

Bidding good-bye to our comrades, the Cap- 
tain and I repaired to Marblehead, where we 
awaited the further orders of the Naval Com- 
mittee. But two months later Cornwallis sur- 
rendered at Yorktown, and the war for the in- 
dependence of the Colonies was over. 

The navy, therefore, no longer needed us, and 
we resigned our commissions to go back to the 
foreign trade. For several years the Captain 
ran a large ship to French and Spanish ports, 
on which I served as first mate. Then I was 
given command of a brig in the East India 
trade and the Captain and I did not see each 
other for some years. 

The War of 1812 sent us back to the navy in 
which he rose to the rank of a Commodore, 
while I won a Captain’s commission. At its 
close he retired to a farm he had purchased in 
Bristol, Maine, while I again sailed for foreign 
ports. 


IN SHIP AND PRISON 357 

It was never my good fortune to visit him in 
his new home but once ; but I have many times 
since stood by his grave and read the few lines 
written on his tombstone, a just tribute to the 
man and his service : 

I 

In Memory of 

COMMODORE SAMUEL TUCKER 
Who Died 
March 10, 1833 
A Patriot of the Revolution 

To this I would personally add: 

‘‘And the truest friend I ever knew.” 


The End. 


FICTION FOR BOYS 


LITTLE RHODY 

By JEAN K. BAIRD 
Illustrated by R. G. Vosburgh . 

At The Hall, a boys’ school, there is a set of boys 
known as the “Union of States,” to which admittance 
is gained by excelling in some particular the boys deem 
worthy of their mettle. 

Rush Petriken, a hunchback boy, comes to The Hall, 
and rooms with Barnes, the despair of the entire school 
because of his prowess in athletics. Petriken idolizes 
him, and when trouble comes to him, the poor crippled 
lad gladly shoulders the blame, and is expelled. But 
shortly before the end of the term he returns and is 
hailed as “little Rhody,” the “capitalest State of all.” 

CLOTH, 12 mo, illustrated, - $1.50 


BIGELOW BOYS 

Mrs. A. F. RANSOM 
Illustrated by Henry Miller / 

Four boys, all bubbling over with energy and love 
of good times, and their mother, an authoress, make 
this story of a street-car strike in one of our large 
cities move with leaps and bounds. For it is due to 
the four boys that a crowded theatre car is saved from 
being wrecked, and the instigators of the plot captured. 

Mrs. Ransom is widely known by her patriotic work 
among the boys in the navy, and she now proves herself 
a friend of the lads on land by writing more especially 
for them. 

CLOTH, 12 mo, illustrated, - $1.50 
Books sent postpaid on receipt of price. 


^he Saalfield Ttxblishing Co. 

AKRON, OHIO 




THE BRADEN BOOKS 


FAR PAST THE FRONTIER. 

By JAMES A. BRADEN 

The sub-title “ Two Boy Pioneers ” indicates the nature of this 
story — that it has to do with the days when the Ohio Valley and 
the Northwest country were sparsely settled. Such a topic is an 
unfailing fund of interest to boys, especially when involving a 
couple of stalwart young men who leave the East to make their 
fortunes and to incur untold dangers. 

“ Strong, vigorous, healthy, manly .” — Seattle Times. 


CONNECTICUT BOYS IN 
THE WESTERN RESERVE 

By JAMES A. BRADEN 

The author once more sends his heroes toward the setting sun. 
” In all the glowing enthusiasm of youth, the youngsters seek their 
fortunes in the great, fertile wilderness of northern Ohio, and 
eventually achieve fair success, though their progress is hindered 
and sometimes halted by adventures innumerable. It is a lively, 
wholesome tale, never dull, and absorbing in interest for boys who 
love the fabled life of the frontier .” — Chicago Tribune. 


THE TRAIL of THE SENECA 

By JAMES A. BRADEN 

In which we follow the romantic careers of John Jerome and 
Return Kingdom a little farther. 

These two self-reliant boys are living peaceably in their cabin 
on the Cuyahoga when an Indian warrior is found dead in the 
woods nearby. The Seneca accuses John of witchcraft. This means 
death at the stake if he is captured. They decide that the Seneca’s 
charge is made to shield himself, and set out to prove it. Mad 
Anthony, then on the Ohio, comes to their aid, but all their efforts 
prove futile and the lone cabin is found in ashes on their return. 

CAPTIVES THREE 

By JAMES A. B R-A DEN 

A tale of frontier life, and how three children — two boys and a 
girl — attempt to reach the settlements in a canoe, but are captured 
by the Indians. A common enough occurrence in the days of our 
great-grandfathers has been woven into a thrilling story. 

BOUND IN CLOTH, each handsomely 
illustrated, cloth, postpaid • - 



T5he SacLlfield Ttiblishing Co. 

AKRON, OHIO 



BOOKS FOR BOYS 


WINFIELD SERIES: 

LARRY BARLOW’S AMBITION 
A YOUNG INVENTOR’S PLUCK 

These two books of adventure for boys, by the popular author of the 
Rover Boys’ Series, have attained an enviable reputation, and are read by 
thousands and thousands of boys everywhere. 


CASTLEMON SERIES: 

A STRUGGLE FOR A FORTUNE 
WINGED ARROW’S MEDICINE 
THE FIRST CAPTURE 

Harry Castlemon ranks among the best of the writers of juvenile fiction. 
His various books are in constant and large demand by the boys who have 
learned to look for his name as author as a guaranty of a good story. 


BONEHILL SERIES: 

THE BOY LAND BOOMER 
THREE YOUNG RANCHMEN 

Stories of western life that are full of adventure, which read as if they hap- 
pened day before yesterday. 

RATHBORNE SERIES : 

DOWN THE AMAZON 
ADRIFT ON A JUNK 
YOUNG VOYAGERS OF THE NILE 
YOUNG CASTAWAYS 

For boys who have had their fill of adventures on land, the Rathborxe 
books are ever welcome. They make one feel the salt breeze, and hear the 
shouts of the sailor boys. 

OTIS SERIES: 

TEDDY MESSENGER No. 48 

TELEGRAPH TOM DOWN THE SLOPE 

James Otis writes for wide-awake American boys, and his audience read 
his tales with keen appreciation. 

Each of the above books bound In Cloth, ^4 An 
Illustrated, 12mos, postpaid, - - ^ I aUU 


IShe ScLcilfield Vtiblishing Co., 

AKRON, OHIO 





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